Edna Johnson, Sunday, November 11, 1923 - Friday, December 28, 2012
On behalf of my mother and
all of Edna’s family I would like to thank you for coming today to share in our
sorrow, but also to share in our joy as we celebrate my grandmother’s life. My
grandmother was a wonderful woman who lived a rich, long life filled with love.
I must admit
that I had a difficult time writing this eulogy. I struggled with the challenge
of capturing the life, spirit and the essence of my Grandmother as I am fully
aware that she means and represents something different to every person in this
room. All that I can offer and convey are my own memories.
Mostly
though, my main struggle with writing this eulogy is due to the dementia she
suffered from. It feels as though we’ve been losing her bit by bit
over the past few years. The grandmother, mother, sister, and friend that we
had known became a shadow of her former self. Today is not the beginning of
grief; we have been grieving for years.
I would like
to share a poem with you that I feel is fitting of the moment.
You didn't
die just recently,
You left some time ago.
Although your body stayed a while,
And didn't really know.
For you
suffered from dementia,
You failed to comprehend.
Your body went on living.
But your mind had reached its end.
So we've
already said, "Goodbye",
To the person that we knew.
The person that we truly loved,
The person that was, "You".
And so we
meet again today,
To toast your bodies end.
For it was true and faithful,
Until the very end.
And so, when
we remember,
We'll think of all the rest.
We'll concentrate on earlier,
And remember all the best.
For in the
real scheme of things,
Your illness wasn't long.
Compared to all the happiness,
You brought your whole life long.
We think of
you as yesterday,
When you were fit and well.
And when we're asked about you,
It's those things that we'll tell.
And so we
meet in remembrance
Of a mind so fit and true.
We're here to pay our last respects
To say that, "We love you".
Over the past few days, like all of you, I have both purposely and
subconsciously awoken latent memories. Of course, mine come gift wrapped in the
unconditional and unwavering love that a grandmother has for her
grandchildren.
Here is what I remember about Grandma:
- She was always there. Birthdays, graduations, weddings. She was a constant companion to life’s most formative moments.
- She didn’t object to my brother and I calling her “Puppy Grandma” to differentiate her from our “Cat Grandma”
- Her candy dish was never empty. Never. Even if she had to fill it with a pack of gum from her purse when we showed up unexpectedly, it was never, ever empty
- She had magical powers. She could turn cornflakes into cookies.
- In fact, she could turn almost anything into cookies and loved teaching her grandkids how to do it too.
- She let me drink her tea when my parents weren’t looking.
- She pretended not to notice when I ate more strawberries or raspberries from her bushes than I helped her pick for jam.
- She used to drag me, I mean take me along with her when she visited her neighbours. It usually went really well, but once she had to hold and console me for a very long time after a well intended neighbour induced an anxiety attack by removing their floor vent covers and telling me to be careful I don’t fall in and get lost forever.
- She let us open our Christmas presents from her on Christmas Eve.
- She was a constant figure in the bleachers of my baseball games and my brother’s hockey games.
- She made the most amazing dolls. Some were crocheted, some were sewn. They were all equally awesome.
- She always made sure we brought extra running shoes to her house, so she could take us swimming in Weller’s Bay. The rocks were treacherous!
- She never said no to a sleepover.
- She never once complained that the grandkids ruined the carpet on her stairs by sliding down them in sleeping bags, on our butts or on cardboard.
- She kept a game of Kerplunk in her closet just for the grandkids.
- When I was really young and broke my arm falling off a slide, she showed up when the cast was still wet with a big bag of strawberry candies for me. Even better, she whispered in my ear that I didn’t have to share them with my brother. This was the first time in my life that I didn’t have to share with my brother. She literally made the pain instantly disappear.
- She never forgot birthdays or anniversaries and always sent a card.
- She has a strange affection for and collection of salt and pepper shakers – an endless sense of wonder for young grandchildren.
- Her fridge could have been renamed “Grandchildren’s Gallery” Every square inch was covered with photos.
- She was a pro at maneuvering a wheelbarrow filled with grandchildren around her yard.
- She gave you what you asked for. Once, I lied and told her my Mom let me eat mayonnaise straight from the jar. Instead of calling my bluff, she gave me a bowl of mayo and a spoon and said “eat up” She wouldn’t let me stop until I admitted I had lied.
- She never got mad when we listened in to her neighbour’s telephone conversations on the “party line” but she did give us some straight talk about manners and respect.
- She found joy in the simplest things. One of her greatest pleasures was to work out in her yard. In earlier years, her backyard was a showcase for flowers and plants.
- She always asked my Mom if my Dad wanted more food. This confused me as a child, I thought that something was wrong with my Dad’s ability to understand his own hunger.
- When reading aloud at her house as a child, I pronounced the word fatigue incorrectly. Grandma stood up for me, while others laughed, and said it was a hard word. It was.
- She nurtured her houseplants like they were pets and her pets like they were children.
- My favourite memory however, is that she never, ever rushed us and she never had anywhere else to be but with us.
I also know from stories my Mother had told me that when her and her
siblings were young, Grandma always wore a dress and never went out in public without makeup,
pearls, lipstick and her hair done. She loved church as much for the singing as
the sense of belonging and faith it offered. But most importantly, she was
always there, after school with some snack she had baked that day and at
bedtime with stories.
My mom also fondly recalls that Grandma was completely non-judgmental
and accepting of everyone. She was welcoming to everyone any of her children
ever brought home and she can't recall a single harsh word she ever said about
anyone. She had no idea what gossip was, but she sure knew what integrity was.
What I know for certain from my memories and from those shared with me,
is that Grandma’s life can be defined as honest, kind and full of love. Her
love for her family, her love for her friends and her love of life was true and
it was pure.
I
truly, whole heartedly believe that it is a fundamental impossibility that angels
could have dementia. Grandma is herself
again. The same woman that accepted the love of my grandfather on a train in
the 40’s, the woman that nurtured her children and grandchildren, that is the
woman that is in heaven today, holding Grandpa’s hand and humming Norwegian lullabies.
A
light from the family is gone
A voice we loved is stilled
A place is vacant in the home
Which never can be filled
We have to mourn the loss of one
We would’ve loved to keep
But God who surely loved her best
Has finally made her sleep
