Thanks go to Stanton Anderson (letter February 2) for opening doors like a gentleman, yet the bad manners of a few are no reason to blame societies ills on the advancement of women. As women become more educated and able to care for themselves, the evidence shows they have healthier children and benefit society, not the other way around.
I take issue with a man defining "true femininity," but agree it is a source of "strength, wisdom, and admiration." I just hope that the values of compassion, service, and nurturing are not limited by gender, and men who put them into action can someday be free of the stereotypes with which they are often labeled when they do.
He asked if the cry on the Titanic--"Women first"--would or should be given today. That command pertained to upper class, white women. Women without suffrage who could not own property, whose wages belonged to their husbands, and who were forced to abandon their children if they divorced. A command that left many poor, non-Caucasian people locked with the rats--unable to even jump or try to swim.
Mr. Anderson, feminists don't want to be more like men. We ask you to open doors for everyone regardless of gender, race, creed, social class, or orientation. We prefer the opportunity to vote for representation and the opportunity to address leadership regarding the lack of lifeboats on this ship, so that every mother's child is afforded an opportunity to save themselves.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Grandma's Eulogy
Quite a few people have asked for this over the last few days--well, over the last year. So, here is Grandma's eulogy that I gave at her funeral.
I've been given the job of trying to convey how much everyone loved my grandma, but my words could never do her justice. But first, I want to thank all of you for the love and support you've given all of us over the last several months. Thank you for coming and filling this place with love and joining us in celebrating the life of our sister, mother, grandmother, and most of all, friend. There is a lot of love here, and I want you to know, we return it ten-fold.
Sorry she was so mean the last few months; I know she'd want me to tell you that.
Anybody who ever says with a straight face that a person can't make it through life on her own blood, sweat, and tears, never knew my grandmother. There were plenty of all three for her. Grandma always said there was no such thing as a helpless person, and now I know why. Superwoman wasn't Linda Carter. Superwoman drove around town on the green machine and liked Shalimar. Superwoman had four kids to feed with a waitress's wage, and the only superpower she had was love.
Henry James said, "There are women who are for all your 'times of life.' They're the most wonderful." My grandmother was one of those times of life women. She was always there, more than willing, with that twinkle in her eye, to have the time of her life--swinging from chandeliers, getting caught skinny dipping (and yes, she did!), breaking the law by pitchforking kokanees out of the Mackay Dam...but most importantly, to lend an ear in the rougher times, and to take your side, even when she knew better.
They say everyone needs someone to love them despite all the evidence, and if you know her kids and grandkids, you know she was that person for us. We ran to her in those times of life--the good and the bad. She was the rescuer and the keystone in this family--as we grew and arched, we all leaned in on her. She wouldn't have had it any other way.
Jeneane broke the one and only mold when she stormed like a whirlwind into this existence on May 13, 1936--I'm pretty sure she busted out of that mold and broke it because she had to sit too long to cure.
She was born to her parents, Verda and Leland; she was joined in her life by five siblings--Elaine, Leland, Lela, Betty, and Josie. She attended schools in Idaho Falls, Carey, Mackay, and Moore.
When she was four years old, her father passed away. Her mother was 28, had five kids under six, and worked the night shift at the sugar factory to feed and clothe her family. Life wasn't easy, but they don't call them the greatest generation for nothing. Times were tough, but tough times make tough people and strong families. My grandma was damn tough.
My mom was almost in tears in the hospital 'cause Grandma was in so much pain, but she looked at Mom, pointed her finger at her and said, "Don't you DARE feel sorry for me!" And, its really a sad story the day they took her to the hospital that last time after she threw her walker cross the kitchen and stormed into the living room. But, I can't help but laugh. that was just Grandma, independent 'til the very end and madder than hell she couldn't do EXACTLY what she wanted. I think that's just about the only time she couldn't out will-power something.
Grandma was a fighter, and God watch out for anyone that said a cross word or picked on anybody she loved. She learned by example though--her mother put the gloves to the neighbor lady once for calling Leland that 7-letter word for illegitimate. Apparently, the neighbor was a large woman, and if you ever knew Grandma Paulus, you know she wasn't any bigger than a minute. But, she had that lady straddled on the sidewalk, so you know Jeneane came by it honest--not to mention the rest of us. Grandma's life mirrored her mother's in many ways.
One thing about Grandma, you never told her she couldn't do anything. "Can't" wasn't in her vocabulary. Leland was once left in charge of Grandma, Lela, and Betty, obviously before their reputation as a threesome was widely known, while Elaine and Grandma ran errands. Well, Lee decided he was going swimming with friends, told those three girls two words he'll never forget, "You can't," and locked them in the house. Seeing the unfairness of this situation, and realizing that the basement would make an awesome swimming hole (that's their story, I think they were proving a point), the girls plugged the sink and let it flood. Elaine and Grandma came home to a foot of water in the house.
You never messed with anyone she loved either, even if you were right. Grandpa Paulus was in the hospital in Salt Lake and Grandma Paulus was with him when Betty June decided to throw food at the boy sitting across from her in the lunch room at the old Moore school. Mrs. Malotte didn't think this was funny and tried to make Betty leave. But, Jeneane came from across the cafeteria and told Betty to "HANG ON! You paid for that lunch, and you CAN eat it! Don't let that old bag tell you, you can't!" So they both hung onto the table for dear life as Mrs. Malotte tried to drag them out.
Apparently this situation got even worse, and they were both kicked out of school. I knew Grandma after she got a lot tougher and meaner, and I can only imagine the hell she gave that Mrs. Mallotte. They both got a pretty good whippin', but I'll bet Grandma didn't care. She took one for the team that day.
You didn't make Grandma mad, either. She NEVER forgot. I think the maddest she ever got at one of her siblings was when Aunt Lela got a speeding ticket for following a cop when her speedometer was broke. They were working at the Royal Cafe at the time, and Lela wouldn't pay the ticket, because of the principle--following a cop 'cause she KNEW he wouldn't speed. Well, she went to jail, and Grandma didn't want her to lose her job, so she and the rest of the girls took Lela's shifts and saved all the tips to get her out of jail and pay the ticket. Lela wouldn't take the money. They still fought over that 10 years ago when I was tending bar. Grandma said Lela was just too stubborn--a typical case of the pot calling the kettle black.
On November 21, 1952, Jeneane married my Grandpa, Bud Gamett. She never went to school after her sophomore year. My grandma kicked herself forever for not finishing school and going to college. She always wanted to become a nurse, but never thought it was an option. "My mother couldn't get me there," she said. "And no one told me about financial aid or any of that. I just figured I couldn't go." She pushed us all to go, and if it wasn't for her, I never would have gotten that little piece of paper. She used to pay us for making the honor roll, she paid for books and tuition, and she always told us how important an education was. She finally got her GED when she was 36.
She was the mother of four children: Buddy, Randy, Judy Anne, and Brent. Brecia sat down with her after we found out how sick she was and asked who her favorite child was. Well, she dodged the question and instead said what she loved about them all. Buddy--he's the big mouth. He argues just to argue. Randy--he never talks at all. Judy--I boss around and tell what and how to do things. Brent--easy going, good natured, and let's everything I tell him roll off his back and then does whatever the hell he wants.
Let me just say that Grandma was all of those things and the apple never falls far from the tree. Big mouth? Jeneane had an opinion about everything and she wasn't afraid to share it. Never talks? That was Grandma is you made her mad--sometimes for months. Get bossed around? The Grandkids bossed her steady and she obeyed because she loved us that much. And, I think everyone else knew that Grandma was pretty easy going as long as you towed the line, and she sure as heck did whatever she wanted and HOW she wanted.
Her kids were her life and she loved them very much. Every decision she ever made in her life was made with her family in mind and their welfare first. She always told us grandkids we never knew how spoiled rotten and lucky we were. We still don't.
One Christmas, she didn't have enough money to buy any presents for her kids, so she and Bud raided the dump for bikes and trikes, took them home and sanded and painted them for the kids for Christmas. She used to steal their Halloween candy and save it for the Christmas stockings, and she says she was never able to buy her kids an Easter basket. If it hadn't been for the Bowden's, they wouldn't have gotten one.
She sold milk to make a little money, and my dad and Randy will tell you the worst beatings she ever dished out came after she'd send them to do the milking and they'd come back with nothing, because they got in milk fights. Milk went everywhere but the bucket. I asked dad how often he did that and got whipped, and he smirked and said, "'Bout everyday."
She was always able to look back on those days and laugh--even though she admits she'd be charged with child abuse today, and she says that it all made her a better and stronger person. She knew what it was like to go without, so when she was able to, she helped everybody she could--whether you wanted her to or not.
In 1968, her and Bud divorced, and she took a job at the Royal Cafe. She started running the Village club that same year. She used to give us dimes to play the jukebox, and she taught us to jitterbug on the tile floor in front of it.
Grandma was a HARD, HARD worker. Betty claims there wasn't a better spud picker around. Jeneane could fill her own bag and half of Betty's and be back from the truck before Betty got half a sack full. But, despite how hard she had to work, she claimed it was harder to be a mom in this day and age. "Kids don't know how to go without anymore," she said. But we all know that by kids, she meant her grandkids, and we never went without because she never let us.
She called us spoiled rotten, but she knew it was her fault and loved it. If there was ever something we EVER wanted or needed, and our parents couldn't get it--she made sure we got it. Even if it meant going behind their backs a few times. She always kept a few bucks in the sugar jar in case we needed money for a pop with friends or whatever, and besides tuition and books, she helped with divorces and lawyers, bail a few times (that wasn't me, BTW, my other Grandmother was called in the middle of the night for that one). She paid for sports camps, basketball shoes, trips, and she NEVER missed a single game, home or away, until she got sick. It was Grandma we ran to when we got in a bind.
Don't get me wrong, if you ever messed up, facing Grandma struck more fear into us than facing the good Lord himself. Nobody ever gave a better butt-chewing or could send you on a bigger guilt trip. She thought so highly of us, and bragged us up, and when we messed up, well, hell hath no fury like a pissed-off Jeneane.
Over the last week, I've gotten so many letters and emails telling me, "You're grandmother was SO nice, when nobody else was. I was down and out, and she always gave me a smile." She tried hard not to judge anybody, always said it wasn't her place to do it. She knew she did it though, and when she did, she'd always throw her hands up int he air and say, "Shut up, Jeneane. Just shut up!"
But when you needed a shoulder and someone to tell you to get it together--Grandma was the lady. That time of life woman. She didn't mince words and wasn't about to feel sorry for you...she always had the right words and a way of letting you know you were master and commander of your life. She helped in that way more than any other.
Sometimes, as her children in law will attest, she could come across as a busy body or like she was sticking her nose where it didn't belong. After Brent and Laurie bought their first house, she told Laurie she needed to move some flowers from one flower bed to another, 'cause they weren't getting enough sun. Laurie ignored her, only to come home a few days later and see that Grandma had moved them. So, Laurie moved them back, only for Jeneane to do it again. Her boys somehow managed to marry women as head-strong as their mother, and it led to some interesting family memories.
But, her heart was in the right place, and she was just trying to help. She always told me that she appreciated the tiny little bits of help she got, and she knew what it was like to struggle, and if she could make one burden a little less for someone, she felt her life was a success.
She was always trying to help. Giving money to the family whose house had burned, or who lost a loved one, or to someone who was sick and couldn't cover the bills. It wasn't just family she helped.
But, most of all, we loved to give her hell, and she loved giving it right back. Grandma was a fun lover, and she loved a good joke--especially at her own expense. She always bought the cereal our parents wouldn't, and we hung out at her place a lot after school, eating cereal and harassing Grandma.
Radley was just little when she bought him a rubber snake at Diers. She HATED that thing. He was helping her out in the tree farm and buried it then forgot about it. Three years later when he got home from school, she tore into him. "Radley! I found you damn snake!" she said. Apparently she got so scared when she dug it up, she fell on her butt.
The boys tied firecrackers to the fridge once (Drew was convinced they were going to give her a heart attack) and then demanded she get them cereal. First, she told them they weren't helpless and could get it themselves, but like always, they got her to do it, and she threw the fridge open in a fit and the firecrakcers popped. I think it did about give her a heart attack.
She had me, Adrienne, and Randy spend the night one time when we were pretty little, and as we were driving down main street, Randy kept telling her to spin a cookie. I was little enough I didn't even know what a cookie was, and she kept ignoring him--until she turned the corner by the bank and the bakery. All I know is that Adrienne and I flew from one side of that giant white Lincoln to the other quite a few times before we stopped, inches, and I mean INCHES, from the bank wall. I don't think we three kids have ever been that quiet as we stared gape-mouthed. She never missed a beat though, and she non-chalantly put it in reverse, mumbled "G-dang kids!" and drove home.
When we were little, I know she got a kick out of it when we acted up. She saw a little bit of herself in all of us, and Grandma loved a good dose of harmless mischief. If I had a nickel for every time she screamed "You G-DANG KIDS!!" I probably wouldn't have had to borrow so much money. But, she loved it, and would throw her hands in the air after marching around for a minute and then she'd get the giggles.
While she was in Chemo, she got a real kick out of chasing frightened children through Fred Meyer on her electric cart. she'd tell them she was a witch and they better get the hell out of her way before she ran them over. I'd talk to her on the phone and she'd laugh and laugh about it.
Grandma loved a good laugh. Her house was always full of laughing, hell-raising kids.
Her favorite hobby was flowers and her garden, and she enjoyed tending the little park on Main Street. We had kind of a running joke there for a while that in the summer, you couldn't recognize Jeneane by her face. She was always bent over in the flowerbed, so you had to look at her butt to make sure it was her. she had beautiful flowers, though, and she loved to play in the dirt.
She took care of everyone's yard--not cause she was asked either. She loved RoundUp, and, boy, did that cause some heated discussions.
She loved to gamble and play cards, and I think Aunt Josie always knew when a poker party was going 'cause all the Gamett kids ended up sick on the same Wednesday. Grandma always had to pick us up when we were sick, and we loved those poker parties! We all liked to play rummy with her, and she cheated, ALL the time, just so you know!
One thing I think everyone knew about Jeneane though, was that she didn't take any crap. My grandmother was known to chase her grandchildren with a broom, as Wes and Case can verify...and she broke one across Brent's back. Judy swears she had the speed of an olympic sprinter and is pretty sure the football team that was practicing across the street from the house the day she mouthed off and though she could out run Grandma will back her ups when she says Jeneane could run a 4 second 40.
Uncle Brent says that if you did something good you never heard about it, unless it made the paper. Then you got a laminated copy of the article from the Arco Advertiser. We had quite a laugh over all of the stuff that old bird laminated. But, like he says, if you ever did wrong, you never heard the end of it.
She raised four kids, worked her fingers to the bone her entire life, and i don't ever remember her complaining. If she knew how many times people have said, "Poor Jeneane," in the last seven months, she'd beat us for sure. She was always telling me, "Jeni, you bitch about your shoes until you see the man with no feet!" And I'm pretty sure, even at the end, she would have known someone that was having a harder time than her--in her mind, it was probably us.
People keep telling me, "You grandmother was a character!" Yes, she was. As the saying goes, "Good character is more to be praised than outstanding talents. Talents are a gift. Character, by contrast, is not given to us. We have to build it piece by piece, by thought, choice, courage, and determination." That is exactly how my grandmother faced everything in her and lived her life--with thought, courage, and determination. You don't get down and you never feel sorry for yourself. You put on your boots and you go to work and fix the stuff that needs fixed. I don't think there was ever a more determined woman that Jeneane on a mission.
Brecia was brave enough to ask Grandma if she ever wished she would have done anything different in her life, and all she said was, "I would have loved and appreciated my kids more."
But, love is not measured in amounts. You can't have more of it or less of it. You have it or you don't.
Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope. It outlasts everything. Love stands when all else has fallen.
Don't ask if you ever loved ENOUGH. The fact that you did, that you have it, is all encompassing.
I think grief is a secondary emotion. As we grow attached and learn to love people as much as we loved Grandma, that love grows and grows and grows. When people pass away, we mistakenly think there is nowhere for that love to go, and it swells up in our chest, and runs out through our tears, and we feel empty. Its like the keystone fell out or the pillar crumbled. But, love, unlike life, isn't impermanent. It is always and forever. It never dies, and it never fails, and it never, ever goes away. Love is the keystone. Love is the pillar.
They say imitation is the greatest form of flattery, and if we really want to show the world how much we loved her, we should learn from her example. Share your love. We have each other--the family she supported like the center stone. Lean on each other, and use that love to give you strength in the hard days ahead. Remember that the center stone was held up by the pressure of love and EVERY other stone around it. The stones in the arch hold each other up. Be that center stone for someone else. Share your stories with each other and with us; that's where your love of my grandma will always live on. When it overwhelms you, reach out to others and help. Look for that man with no feet. Don't cling to your love--build more arches. Use it to help the needy, the poor, the sick. Make the sad laugh. Tell a joke. Play a prank. Spin a cookie.
Please join me in a moment of silence in rememberance of one of those wonderful "times of life women." Love you, Grandma.
I've been given the job of trying to convey how much everyone loved my grandma, but my words could never do her justice. But first, I want to thank all of you for the love and support you've given all of us over the last several months. Thank you for coming and filling this place with love and joining us in celebrating the life of our sister, mother, grandmother, and most of all, friend. There is a lot of love here, and I want you to know, we return it ten-fold.
Sorry she was so mean the last few months; I know she'd want me to tell you that.
Anybody who ever says with a straight face that a person can't make it through life on her own blood, sweat, and tears, never knew my grandmother. There were plenty of all three for her. Grandma always said there was no such thing as a helpless person, and now I know why. Superwoman wasn't Linda Carter. Superwoman drove around town on the green machine and liked Shalimar. Superwoman had four kids to feed with a waitress's wage, and the only superpower she had was love.
Henry James said, "There are women who are for all your 'times of life.' They're the most wonderful." My grandmother was one of those times of life women. She was always there, more than willing, with that twinkle in her eye, to have the time of her life--swinging from chandeliers, getting caught skinny dipping (and yes, she did!), breaking the law by pitchforking kokanees out of the Mackay Dam...but most importantly, to lend an ear in the rougher times, and to take your side, even when she knew better.
They say everyone needs someone to love them despite all the evidence, and if you know her kids and grandkids, you know she was that person for us. We ran to her in those times of life--the good and the bad. She was the rescuer and the keystone in this family--as we grew and arched, we all leaned in on her. She wouldn't have had it any other way.
Jeneane broke the one and only mold when she stormed like a whirlwind into this existence on May 13, 1936--I'm pretty sure she busted out of that mold and broke it because she had to sit too long to cure.
She was born to her parents, Verda and Leland; she was joined in her life by five siblings--Elaine, Leland, Lela, Betty, and Josie. She attended schools in Idaho Falls, Carey, Mackay, and Moore.
When she was four years old, her father passed away. Her mother was 28, had five kids under six, and worked the night shift at the sugar factory to feed and clothe her family. Life wasn't easy, but they don't call them the greatest generation for nothing. Times were tough, but tough times make tough people and strong families. My grandma was damn tough.
My mom was almost in tears in the hospital 'cause Grandma was in so much pain, but she looked at Mom, pointed her finger at her and said, "Don't you DARE feel sorry for me!" And, its really a sad story the day they took her to the hospital that last time after she threw her walker cross the kitchen and stormed into the living room. But, I can't help but laugh. that was just Grandma, independent 'til the very end and madder than hell she couldn't do EXACTLY what she wanted. I think that's just about the only time she couldn't out will-power something.
Grandma was a fighter, and God watch out for anyone that said a cross word or picked on anybody she loved. She learned by example though--her mother put the gloves to the neighbor lady once for calling Leland that 7-letter word for illegitimate. Apparently, the neighbor was a large woman, and if you ever knew Grandma Paulus, you know she wasn't any bigger than a minute. But, she had that lady straddled on the sidewalk, so you know Jeneane came by it honest--not to mention the rest of us. Grandma's life mirrored her mother's in many ways.
One thing about Grandma, you never told her she couldn't do anything. "Can't" wasn't in her vocabulary. Leland was once left in charge of Grandma, Lela, and Betty, obviously before their reputation as a threesome was widely known, while Elaine and Grandma ran errands. Well, Lee decided he was going swimming with friends, told those three girls two words he'll never forget, "You can't," and locked them in the house. Seeing the unfairness of this situation, and realizing that the basement would make an awesome swimming hole (that's their story, I think they were proving a point), the girls plugged the sink and let it flood. Elaine and Grandma came home to a foot of water in the house.
You never messed with anyone she loved either, even if you were right. Grandpa Paulus was in the hospital in Salt Lake and Grandma Paulus was with him when Betty June decided to throw food at the boy sitting across from her in the lunch room at the old Moore school. Mrs. Malotte didn't think this was funny and tried to make Betty leave. But, Jeneane came from across the cafeteria and told Betty to "HANG ON! You paid for that lunch, and you CAN eat it! Don't let that old bag tell you, you can't!" So they both hung onto the table for dear life as Mrs. Malotte tried to drag them out.
Apparently this situation got even worse, and they were both kicked out of school. I knew Grandma after she got a lot tougher and meaner, and I can only imagine the hell she gave that Mrs. Mallotte. They both got a pretty good whippin', but I'll bet Grandma didn't care. She took one for the team that day.
You didn't make Grandma mad, either. She NEVER forgot. I think the maddest she ever got at one of her siblings was when Aunt Lela got a speeding ticket for following a cop when her speedometer was broke. They were working at the Royal Cafe at the time, and Lela wouldn't pay the ticket, because of the principle--following a cop 'cause she KNEW he wouldn't speed. Well, she went to jail, and Grandma didn't want her to lose her job, so she and the rest of the girls took Lela's shifts and saved all the tips to get her out of jail and pay the ticket. Lela wouldn't take the money. They still fought over that 10 years ago when I was tending bar. Grandma said Lela was just too stubborn--a typical case of the pot calling the kettle black.
On November 21, 1952, Jeneane married my Grandpa, Bud Gamett. She never went to school after her sophomore year. My grandma kicked herself forever for not finishing school and going to college. She always wanted to become a nurse, but never thought it was an option. "My mother couldn't get me there," she said. "And no one told me about financial aid or any of that. I just figured I couldn't go." She pushed us all to go, and if it wasn't for her, I never would have gotten that little piece of paper. She used to pay us for making the honor roll, she paid for books and tuition, and she always told us how important an education was. She finally got her GED when she was 36.
She was the mother of four children: Buddy, Randy, Judy Anne, and Brent. Brecia sat down with her after we found out how sick she was and asked who her favorite child was. Well, she dodged the question and instead said what she loved about them all. Buddy--he's the big mouth. He argues just to argue. Randy--he never talks at all. Judy--I boss around and tell what and how to do things. Brent--easy going, good natured, and let's everything I tell him roll off his back and then does whatever the hell he wants.
Let me just say that Grandma was all of those things and the apple never falls far from the tree. Big mouth? Jeneane had an opinion about everything and she wasn't afraid to share it. Never talks? That was Grandma is you made her mad--sometimes for months. Get bossed around? The Grandkids bossed her steady and she obeyed because she loved us that much. And, I think everyone else knew that Grandma was pretty easy going as long as you towed the line, and she sure as heck did whatever she wanted and HOW she wanted.
Her kids were her life and she loved them very much. Every decision she ever made in her life was made with her family in mind and their welfare first. She always told us grandkids we never knew how spoiled rotten and lucky we were. We still don't.
One Christmas, she didn't have enough money to buy any presents for her kids, so she and Bud raided the dump for bikes and trikes, took them home and sanded and painted them for the kids for Christmas. She used to steal their Halloween candy and save it for the Christmas stockings, and she says she was never able to buy her kids an Easter basket. If it hadn't been for the Bowden's, they wouldn't have gotten one.
She sold milk to make a little money, and my dad and Randy will tell you the worst beatings she ever dished out came after she'd send them to do the milking and they'd come back with nothing, because they got in milk fights. Milk went everywhere but the bucket. I asked dad how often he did that and got whipped, and he smirked and said, "'Bout everyday."
She was always able to look back on those days and laugh--even though she admits she'd be charged with child abuse today, and she says that it all made her a better and stronger person. She knew what it was like to go without, so when she was able to, she helped everybody she could--whether you wanted her to or not.
In 1968, her and Bud divorced, and she took a job at the Royal Cafe. She started running the Village club that same year. She used to give us dimes to play the jukebox, and she taught us to jitterbug on the tile floor in front of it.
Grandma was a HARD, HARD worker. Betty claims there wasn't a better spud picker around. Jeneane could fill her own bag and half of Betty's and be back from the truck before Betty got half a sack full. But, despite how hard she had to work, she claimed it was harder to be a mom in this day and age. "Kids don't know how to go without anymore," she said. But we all know that by kids, she meant her grandkids, and we never went without because she never let us.
She called us spoiled rotten, but she knew it was her fault and loved it. If there was ever something we EVER wanted or needed, and our parents couldn't get it--she made sure we got it. Even if it meant going behind their backs a few times. She always kept a few bucks in the sugar jar in case we needed money for a pop with friends or whatever, and besides tuition and books, she helped with divorces and lawyers, bail a few times (that wasn't me, BTW, my other Grandmother was called in the middle of the night for that one). She paid for sports camps, basketball shoes, trips, and she NEVER missed a single game, home or away, until she got sick. It was Grandma we ran to when we got in a bind.
Don't get me wrong, if you ever messed up, facing Grandma struck more fear into us than facing the good Lord himself. Nobody ever gave a better butt-chewing or could send you on a bigger guilt trip. She thought so highly of us, and bragged us up, and when we messed up, well, hell hath no fury like a pissed-off Jeneane.
Over the last week, I've gotten so many letters and emails telling me, "You're grandmother was SO nice, when nobody else was. I was down and out, and she always gave me a smile." She tried hard not to judge anybody, always said it wasn't her place to do it. She knew she did it though, and when she did, she'd always throw her hands up int he air and say, "Shut up, Jeneane. Just shut up!"
But when you needed a shoulder and someone to tell you to get it together--Grandma was the lady. That time of life woman. She didn't mince words and wasn't about to feel sorry for you...she always had the right words and a way of letting you know you were master and commander of your life. She helped in that way more than any other.
Sometimes, as her children in law will attest, she could come across as a busy body or like she was sticking her nose where it didn't belong. After Brent and Laurie bought their first house, she told Laurie she needed to move some flowers from one flower bed to another, 'cause they weren't getting enough sun. Laurie ignored her, only to come home a few days later and see that Grandma had moved them. So, Laurie moved them back, only for Jeneane to do it again. Her boys somehow managed to marry women as head-strong as their mother, and it led to some interesting family memories.
But, her heart was in the right place, and she was just trying to help. She always told me that she appreciated the tiny little bits of help she got, and she knew what it was like to struggle, and if she could make one burden a little less for someone, she felt her life was a success.
She was always trying to help. Giving money to the family whose house had burned, or who lost a loved one, or to someone who was sick and couldn't cover the bills. It wasn't just family she helped.
But, most of all, we loved to give her hell, and she loved giving it right back. Grandma was a fun lover, and she loved a good joke--especially at her own expense. She always bought the cereal our parents wouldn't, and we hung out at her place a lot after school, eating cereal and harassing Grandma.
Radley was just little when she bought him a rubber snake at Diers. She HATED that thing. He was helping her out in the tree farm and buried it then forgot about it. Three years later when he got home from school, she tore into him. "Radley! I found you damn snake!" she said. Apparently she got so scared when she dug it up, she fell on her butt.
The boys tied firecrackers to the fridge once (Drew was convinced they were going to give her a heart attack) and then demanded she get them cereal. First, she told them they weren't helpless and could get it themselves, but like always, they got her to do it, and she threw the fridge open in a fit and the firecrakcers popped. I think it did about give her a heart attack.
She had me, Adrienne, and Randy spend the night one time when we were pretty little, and as we were driving down main street, Randy kept telling her to spin a cookie. I was little enough I didn't even know what a cookie was, and she kept ignoring him--until she turned the corner by the bank and the bakery. All I know is that Adrienne and I flew from one side of that giant white Lincoln to the other quite a few times before we stopped, inches, and I mean INCHES, from the bank wall. I don't think we three kids have ever been that quiet as we stared gape-mouthed. She never missed a beat though, and she non-chalantly put it in reverse, mumbled "G-dang kids!" and drove home.
When we were little, I know she got a kick out of it when we acted up. She saw a little bit of herself in all of us, and Grandma loved a good dose of harmless mischief. If I had a nickel for every time she screamed "You G-DANG KIDS!!" I probably wouldn't have had to borrow so much money. But, she loved it, and would throw her hands in the air after marching around for a minute and then she'd get the giggles.
While she was in Chemo, she got a real kick out of chasing frightened children through Fred Meyer on her electric cart. she'd tell them she was a witch and they better get the hell out of her way before she ran them over. I'd talk to her on the phone and she'd laugh and laugh about it.
Grandma loved a good laugh. Her house was always full of laughing, hell-raising kids.
Her favorite hobby was flowers and her garden, and she enjoyed tending the little park on Main Street. We had kind of a running joke there for a while that in the summer, you couldn't recognize Jeneane by her face. She was always bent over in the flowerbed, so you had to look at her butt to make sure it was her. she had beautiful flowers, though, and she loved to play in the dirt.
She took care of everyone's yard--not cause she was asked either. She loved RoundUp, and, boy, did that cause some heated discussions.
She loved to gamble and play cards, and I think Aunt Josie always knew when a poker party was going 'cause all the Gamett kids ended up sick on the same Wednesday. Grandma always had to pick us up when we were sick, and we loved those poker parties! We all liked to play rummy with her, and she cheated, ALL the time, just so you know!
One thing I think everyone knew about Jeneane though, was that she didn't take any crap. My grandmother was known to chase her grandchildren with a broom, as Wes and Case can verify...and she broke one across Brent's back. Judy swears she had the speed of an olympic sprinter and is pretty sure the football team that was practicing across the street from the house the day she mouthed off and though she could out run Grandma will back her ups when she says Jeneane could run a 4 second 40.
Uncle Brent says that if you did something good you never heard about it, unless it made the paper. Then you got a laminated copy of the article from the Arco Advertiser. We had quite a laugh over all of the stuff that old bird laminated. But, like he says, if you ever did wrong, you never heard the end of it.
She raised four kids, worked her fingers to the bone her entire life, and i don't ever remember her complaining. If she knew how many times people have said, "Poor Jeneane," in the last seven months, she'd beat us for sure. She was always telling me, "Jeni, you bitch about your shoes until you see the man with no feet!" And I'm pretty sure, even at the end, she would have known someone that was having a harder time than her--in her mind, it was probably us.
People keep telling me, "You grandmother was a character!" Yes, she was. As the saying goes, "Good character is more to be praised than outstanding talents. Talents are a gift. Character, by contrast, is not given to us. We have to build it piece by piece, by thought, choice, courage, and determination." That is exactly how my grandmother faced everything in her and lived her life--with thought, courage, and determination. You don't get down and you never feel sorry for yourself. You put on your boots and you go to work and fix the stuff that needs fixed. I don't think there was ever a more determined woman that Jeneane on a mission.
Brecia was brave enough to ask Grandma if she ever wished she would have done anything different in her life, and all she said was, "I would have loved and appreciated my kids more."
But, love is not measured in amounts. You can't have more of it or less of it. You have it or you don't.
Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope. It outlasts everything. Love stands when all else has fallen.
Don't ask if you ever loved ENOUGH. The fact that you did, that you have it, is all encompassing.
I think grief is a secondary emotion. As we grow attached and learn to love people as much as we loved Grandma, that love grows and grows and grows. When people pass away, we mistakenly think there is nowhere for that love to go, and it swells up in our chest, and runs out through our tears, and we feel empty. Its like the keystone fell out or the pillar crumbled. But, love, unlike life, isn't impermanent. It is always and forever. It never dies, and it never fails, and it never, ever goes away. Love is the keystone. Love is the pillar.
They say imitation is the greatest form of flattery, and if we really want to show the world how much we loved her, we should learn from her example. Share your love. We have each other--the family she supported like the center stone. Lean on each other, and use that love to give you strength in the hard days ahead. Remember that the center stone was held up by the pressure of love and EVERY other stone around it. The stones in the arch hold each other up. Be that center stone for someone else. Share your stories with each other and with us; that's where your love of my grandma will always live on. When it overwhelms you, reach out to others and help. Look for that man with no feet. Don't cling to your love--build more arches. Use it to help the needy, the poor, the sick. Make the sad laugh. Tell a joke. Play a prank. Spin a cookie.
Please join me in a moment of silence in rememberance of one of those wonderful "times of life women." Love you, Grandma.
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