May 13, 1935 – December 4, 2025
Our Mother,
Her heart is what everyone loved most. It is what we knew and loved about her. Her smile was contagious. Her laughter was our favorite—she would get the giggles, and then we would all get the giggles.
Often in the middle of the night—like last June in Northfield—she put all of the dirty clothes into the dryer at the laundromat and then tried to figure out where to put the soap. At 3:00 a.m., she woke up laughing so hard at herself. Then we laughed until dawn.
Our mom was an encourager. She would tell us, “Don’t give up. Stay at it a little longer. Let’s see what’s around the corner. Hang in there.” And sure enough, she was right.
Mom was truly a great listener. She had experience and wisdom, and it was such a comfort to have her listen—and then come to a conclusion, especially if it was the same one you had reached yourself. She was so helpful in life’s crises. She would say, “God is ABLE! He knows! He has this!” She reminded us that the Holy Spirit was with us and would guide us. She would pray with us.
She knew the love of Christ. She understood what Jesus did on the cross for each of us. She would pause when she spoke of the Crucifixion. She was reverent toward her Lord, and her relationship with Christ was something she took seriously. He was the focus of her life.
She came to know Christ as a young teenager, and from that point on, He lit her heart for Him. She passed on her faith to all of us. It was the greatest gift she ever gave. She taught us that He is faithful. Her life was about sharing how faithful He is to all who would humble themselves before the cross. Her entire life belonged to Him.
When we were very young, she started a Good News Club on our street. She had a whole presentation. The living room was packed with noisy, wiggly kids—so many came, and they never forgot the message of Christ she shared. Just recently, I reconnected with a man who grew up on our street. He attended her outreach when he was very young. While texting, he said, “I remember your mom teaching about God.”
Wow. It had been 58 years—and he still remembered.
When we went off to school, Mom led neighborhood Bible studies. She invited every woman on the street. She baked cakes, cookies, breads, and pies, and served coffee and tea. She had a little old tea cart with wobbly wheels, and she’d wheel it into the middle of the living room to serve everyone. She loved it. She was the ultimate hostess, and it gave her such joy.
There were hundreds of gatherings throughout the years—body life with the Chapel, Christmas parties, Thanksgiving gatherings, men’s Bible study breakfasts. You name it, she was hosting it. Dad was right there with her, zooming to the grocery store—often twice—if she needed another ingredient.
Mom and Dad were full of joy and deeply engaged in their church life. They belonged to the Jacksonville Chapel, known to all simply as the Chapel. We grew up there and loved our activities. Sunday mornings were great—sitting in the balcony, throwing spitballs and dead bugs onto the listeners below.
John was in Boys Brigade, and Helen and I were in Pioneer Girls, which Mom led for years. Those girls were never the same. Somehow, on the way to our Country House on the Delaware River for a girls’ retreat, Mom’s bras were hanging out of the station wagon window as she floored it toward our destination with her lead foot—laughing all the way.
Helen and I were blessed with a mom who loved to shop. This was not a blessing for John. His idea of shopping quickly turned into a fast-moving game of tag and hide-and-seek among the clothing racks—any clothing, at any moment. If John got to hit the elevator button, his day was complete. And under no circumstances would he ever sit between Helen and me in the car. Not for him.
We had the best Christmases. Mom created a sense of wonder. The special ornaments of old—Great Grandma’s, Poppy’s, and Nannie’s—along with the new ones Pop bought every year. The tree, with that incredible smell of fresh balsam. The lights. Mom’s special decorations. No matter the ornament, it had a story—and we had to be so careful.
In everything we did with her, she carried a sense of wonder that translated into every endeavor: spending a week at the ocean, building snowmen, making the most delicious Christmas cookies. And not to mention—what an amazing cook she was. Oh, how she loved to cook.
A true sense of joy filled her. There was no doubt of the presence of God in her very being. She had a grateful heart, and she truly loved life.
She lived through World War II, and her dad was gone for four years as a soldier. She knew what it was to have little, and she was thankful for every piece of clothing she owned.
She loved being a nurse and caring for her family and so many others. Frantic moms on our street would bring their children to Grannie in an emergency.
Her ministries were vast. She did amazing work with the Women’s Ministry at the Chapel. She left a legacy of love and made sure all were welcome. If someone didn’t have the means to attend a retreat, she would find a way.
Our mother was a gift to so many. It was her smile—her smile came from a heart where her Lord permeated every room.
She has left us with the best memories, the funniest moments, and a heart that always pointed us to Him.
She lived her life and loved us well.
Thank you, Mom, for all you gave us. We are so grateful. We love you.
Forever… we will see you again.