In Memoriam

September 11, 1930 - January 2, 2012

Yesterday we received news that my maternal grandmother, Mama Jean, passed away in Arkansas. She had been hospitalized for a variety of health issues centered around congestive heart failure prior to Christmas, but things had appeared to improve, and we were relieved to know that she had been removed from ICU and taken to a regular room, not needing to be on a ventilator anymore. Unfortunately, she took a turn for the worse yesterday morning, and her poor heart just gave out on her. My aunt and step-grandfather were with her, so we were relieved to know that she was not alone. Of course, it was a difficult day for our family. After all the struggles we've faced this past year - my dad's health, my health, my grandfather's cancer, my grandmother's hospitalizations - this blow hit us pretty hard. While we knew she was ill, it was still a bit unexpected.

One thing about death is that it reminds us to pause and think about life. Buddha said, "Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely." When I look back at my time with my grandmother, I know that she had nothing to fear. Mama Jean was the matriarch of our family. She organized holidays and prepared the big family meals my entire childhood. I fondly remember every Thanksgiving and Christmas sitting around her beautiful table at the country house, dining on perfectly cooked turkey, homemade cornbread dressing, sweet potatoes, and of course, her famous rolls. She always had such an amazing spread! Her talents in the kitchen were unparalleled, and she was my inspiration behind learning to cook. I can remember days sitting in her kitchen while she expertly rolled out pie crust, letting me have a little of the extra dough to play with while she baked. Everything she touched in the kitchen turned out perfectly. Her pie crusts were always light and flaky - mine were heavy and gummy. Her rolls melted in your mouth - mine fell like lumps. Over the years, my baking and cooking improved, but despite following her recipes precisely, my goodies never turned out quite the same. I would watch her like a hawk, trying to pick up her techniques and tips. Her passion for recipes and hospitality inspired me. When I moved out of my parents' house after college and got my own apartment, I spent days carefully transcribing many of Mama Jean's recipes so I could practice them and hold them close to my heart.

During summer breaks I would visit and spend long afternoons relaxing on her outdoor swing under one of the big oak trees at the country house, sipping lemonade and voraciously reading young adult ficion books. One summer I began writing poetry, and I sat in her office pecking away at her old manual typewriter, feeling inspired and creative, and writing poem after poem about nature. Night time came, and we would go sit outside and look at the stars. For a "city girl", I was always so amazed at how brightly the stars shone in the country.

When I was in college at Henderson, I lived in Arkadelphia, and a highlight of my week was going out to visit Mama Jean and Don at the country house. I yearned for some home cooking, and just visiting her house always made me feel loved, warm, and welcomed. She helped me with so many things during those years, teaching me guitar for a college class and inviting my friends over to join me for home-cooked meals. I distinctly remember being in the midst of some pretty big storms one day during my sophomore year of college. There was a funnel cloud forming over the Burger King in Arkadelphia, and everyone in the dorms had been asked to go to the basement to take cover. Since I had been at Wal-Mart (the only shopping option for Arkadelphians!), I headed straight for Mama Jean's house, knowing that I would want to be there if a storm hit, rather than at the dorm. Her house was my safe haven.

Mama Jean loved music. I have so many memories of sitting around her living room - fire blazing - singing Christmas carols while she played piano or guitar. She and Don attended the college football games to see me perform with the band at half time, and they came to my band concerts. They would call and invite me to local performances or fun little outings, always making sure to know that I was welcome any time.

I know this week will be difficult... going to the viewing on Thursday and the funeral on Friday. But I look at my family - the strength of my mom and the love we all have for each other - and I'm so inspired. I've always believed that it's the impact you have on others that is your living legacy, and I know that my grandmother has touched so many lives.

Over the last year, countless people have complimented our family, saying that our strength is inspiring. While it is very flattering (and encouraging) to hear that, I know that strength is a result of a legacy that has been passed down through generations. I know that Mama Jean's absence will be felt strongly throughout our family - she was such a cornerstone of everyone's lives - but I also take great comfort knowing that she is at peace. And with a heart full of love, I know that every time I roll out Mama Jean's rolls or slice off a piece of her coconut cake, I will be honoring her memory. May she rest in peace.