Tribute to Nancy

 I had written this in December of 2020 but failed to publish it here, so want to do that now. Like many people, 2020 was a blur and a time of loss of varied kinds. 

Thank you to all the friends and family who came to the visitation and services for my mother-in-law, Nancy. Please continue to pray for the family. November and December usually bring a lot of activity for our family, as many of our birthdays and anniversaries fall from Thanksgiving-time through the New Year (including my wedding anniversary, which is today), so this year will be a time of adjustment. Jay and Nancy would have celebrated their 62^nd wedding anniversary later this month.

Nancy was a gentle and quiet soul. In the years I knew her, I never saw her speak in anger. She once told me that she was often misunderstood because people would mistake her quietness for standoffishness, but those who understood her knew of her kindness. I hope that my children remember this about their grandmother, how patient and calm she was with everyone. She was a thoughtful person, paying attention to small details about people, which I suppose she was good at because she was so quiet.

Nancy was first and foremost a follower of Jesus.  She was also an accomplished pianist and organist, so it is no surprise that she shared that extraordinary talent with her church family for many wonderful years. I feel like playing the organ is an unusual gift and a great one to share.

She developed deep and lasting friendships within her Dorcas group at Sugar Grove Bible Church. These faithful women raised their children and celebrated life’s ups and downs together over the course of several decades.  I have been blessed to know many of these lovely ladies myself. Nancy continued to share her love of Christ as she grew older through devoted service to children’s ministry, Sunday School, and Vacation Bible School, and by caring for the children of a neighbor who were also a part of her church family, all of whom grew to love her deeply. 

Nancy was an expert gardener and member of several gardening groups. Her flower gardens were always beautiful and brought pleasure to many people, including the caretaker herself, who painstakingly planted and tended from spring until fall each year.  She also donated her gardening talents to several charities and gave generously from her gardens to friends and family. I am proud to have many of her flower gifts in my garden, and they will remain a lovely reminder of her each year when they bloom.

Nancy also had an adventurous streak, learning to snow ski as an adult, something she enjoyed with all three of her kids. She skied in Switzerland. She went on annual ski club trips with her son Jeff into her early sixties. She also fought and beat cancer during those years. I saw her as a person who was willing to try new things.

After my mother’s untimely death, Nancy was faithful about asking after me and my dad and patiently listening. Few people reached out to us after our loss, as I suppose many people feel inclined that “they don’t know what to say.” However, Nancy understood that she didn’t need to say anything, just listen. Occasionally she would share a story about her mother, signaling she understood the importance of my loss. She knew that certain deaths create a small space that cannot be completely healed in this life, whether a day or a decade later.

She and my husband Jon shared a little ritual between them around pink flamingos. How it started is a story for another time, but it became a tradition that whenever we were traveling, he would purchase a flamingo souvenir which he would tuck into her flower garden, hide on a shelf, or hang on her Christmas tree. She would discover it later, and they could share a laugh or two.  We had more than one show up within our yard or home as well.  It is stories or traditions like this that tether us to someone after they are gone. I will always think of Nancy when I see a pink flamingo or a pretty flower garden.

Nancy came from a warm and down-to-earth family who quickly welcomed me into their clan. I have fond memories of my first meetings with them and how much “the aunts” doted over me and my children through the years. It has been sad to watch her generation dying off, one by one. I can imagine that Nancy felt that same loss and was looking forward to many reunions.

Nancy’s final year in this life was a difficult one. Early in 2020, memory loss brought about a move to a charming, well-appointed one-bedroom assisted living apartment lovingly decorated by her daughter Jill to recreate as much as the home environment she was leaving. However, we could never have anticipated what was coming with the pandemic and the lockdowns of facilities like hers, nor the rapid deterioration caused by months of isolation and loneliness that would follow. Only a handful of in-person visits, always behind masks at a distance. Brief phone or video calls, peering through a window. Not the best memories for children and grandchildren, and certainly not for her. Later, there was a fall, which so often hastens death in older people.

I wish I could say that Nancy did not suffer. The Apostle Paul wrote in Philippians that he knew how to be both full and hungry, and prosperous and needy, proclaiming that he could do ALL things through Christ. The “all things” he spoke of were these contrasting experiences of good and evil. We cannot understand joy without sadness, but Christ will strengthen us. I am glad that Nancy had that strength.

So, while Nancy departed this life in difficulty, we are comforted to know that her next sight will be the face of Jesus, as well as those she has loved and lost.  We are also glad she is healed and at peace and look forward to our own homecoming with her someday. All the plusses and minuses considered, hers was a life well-lived.