Eulogy

This is what I wrote- although, of course, it is not exactly what I said:

"Framma was fond of telling me, "Never let a little thing like the truth get in the way of a good story."  And while that rule of thumb has served me well in my own story-telling endeavors, when I sat down to compose these words I realized that, in the case of Jemima Elizabeth Richmond Owens, the truth is better than any story I could possibly have come up with, anyway.  And if it turns out that some of what I know as "fact" is, to the best of others' knowledge, "fiction"- well, let's just agree now to go with whichever version makes the best retelling.

 My grandmother was born in exciting times- a time of talkies and jazz, flappers and bootleggers.  Is it any wonder she would live her life on equally exciting terms, traveling the world and forging her own career?  She was a child during the Great Depression, during which time she learned that love, determination, and hard work can temper a lack of funds.  She took these values with her into her own adulthood, acting as a proper officer's wife, a loving mother and grandmother, and a student who earned not just her bachelor's degree, but also her master's.

 She met my grandfather, David James Owens, quite against her will and under much protest- but when she saw (and I quote) "that handsome young man sitting on the floor playing jacks with my baby sister!" well, she was intrigued.  And then when he stood up ("a tall drink of water!") and gave her his arm to steady her there was a spark- and that was it for the both of them.  Love at first sight, at first touch- love that weathered a war and across continents, through the joy of raising of three amazing children, and the tragedy of losing one.  Love that filled her life with beauty and purpose, and that led to strange psychic tendencies that came in awful handy when she needed Papa to pick up bread on his way home.  They loved each other with a storybook love, and she kept right on loving him even when he let a little thing like death make him miss their 60th wedding anniversary.

 She had several names, my grandmother.  Her husband and friends called her Jim-e, because she hated the name Jemima and didn't understand why her mother, who surely knew the burden of her own name, would chose to pass it on to her.  Her children, and eventually their spouses, called her Mamma.  My brother and I called her Framma, which she delighted in because she'd never liked the title "grandma"- and when she was upset with herself it was, “Oh James!”  Strangers called her Mrs. Owens- although generally speaking, people didn’t remain "strangers" to her for any longer than she could help it.  But there was one other name she was known by for many years: Senora Owens.  This was what her students at Belleville High School East called her, where she taught Spanish and coached drama, speech, and debate.  She loved the teaching, and it pleased her to no end whenever anyone else in the family tried their hand at it, which several of her descendants did.
 She also loved art, and was a passionate painter who pursued her craft well into her golden years.  She showed regularly at galleries in Jacksonville, and was very proud of the money her art earned for charities.  As for me, my favorites were always her watercolors, in no small part because she once illustrated a story for me in that medium.

 My grandmother, as you may have gathered, was a consummate storyteller.  This means that not only did she tell stories, she collected them.  You never knew what mundane interaction with her might later be turned into a new family "classic"- and somehow you always came off sounding far more clever and accomplished than you remembered yourself being at the time.  She was generous that way- choosing only the best to record for posterity.

 I will miss my grandmother.  We all will.  But we're luckier than many who lose loved ones.  Lucky that she was a story-teller, that she collected so many stories, and that she repeated them to us so many times.  Because now when we tell them to each other, and to those who will come after us, regardless of whether or not she features in them, she is there with us, encouraging us not to let the truth get in our way."

Words to Live By