Auntie Jo's rose

After the inurnment for my Auntie Jo on Friday, roses were passed out to those gathered, and when I arrived home from Saskatoon much later the same day, my rose, which had been caught between coats in the back seat of our car, had completely drooped. But I cut the stem and put Auntie's rose into a vase she had given me some years ago, and I am still enjoying it beside me as I write my own little tribute to a special lady.

Auntie Jo's initials were J.A.M., for Johanna Adelheid Maria, or so I learned at my cousin's house after my godmother's funeral. I bear an anglicized version of her first name as my middle name, and share her third name, grateful that her presence also remains with me in my names. She was always Auntie Jo to me, but when I wrote to her, she was Auntie Johanna.

She found her way back to her Creator on May 1st after living on earth for an amazing 94 years. The eldest daughter in a family of nine, she spent her early years looking after her six rambunctious brothers -- her two sisters arrived during her mid to late teens -- and helping her mom keep the home fires burning. As a young woman, she went off on adventures, leaving small town Saskatchewan to work in other small towns and eventually, the big city of Vancouver -- at a time when women were mostly expected to get married and have babies instead of careers.

Auntie Jo did get married after four proposals from my Uncle Scotty, a character unlike any I have ever known -- unapologetically himself, but the kind of guy who turned strangers into friends in short order. They had two kids, four grandkids, and thus far, two great-grandchildren. She met her youngest great grandchild not quite two weeks before she died, and the pictures taken were just beautiful. She was clearly thrilled with little Jacob!

Auntie Jo's life was filled with music -- she had a beautiful voice that landed her the female lead in a community version of HMS Pinafore, and throughout her life, she sang in several church choirs. She learned to play the saxophone mid-life, and became a square dancer after Uncle Scotty died. She taught my dad to dance when he was small. She was considered to be a beauty by my Auntie Barbara, who thought I look like her (I took that as a high compliment). More importantly, in spite of her own strong opinions, Auntie Jo was a good woman who loved many, many people. Even her musician friends at her funeral received that love when the priest announced, "Johanna asks that the choir be first in line for the funeral lunch"! And so it was.

Looking back on my relationship with Auntie Jo, I have always had a sense of what a special godmother she was. Whenever I visited, she introduced me to people in her life not only as her niece, but as her goddaughter -- with a pride that surprised me. She taught me macrame, and took me out for lunches. She made special trips to be at my first communion and high school graduation, decorated my wedding cake, and phoned me on every birthday (though I wasn't quite as good at remembering to phone her on her birthday). She was always at the top of my Christmas card list.

Auntie Jo's family was an integral part of my growing up. Almost every time our family visited Saskatoon, their home was our "home base," so we played together as little kids (the two youngest always being the family puppies when we played "house") and we came to know each other well as we grew up. We all went camping to Vancouver Island the summer I was thirteen, a magical trip that still holds many memories for me. We were all cheering together at the Edmonton Oilers' game the night Gretzky scored his 50th goal in 39 games (back when tickets were more affordable). Her kids are among my favourite cousins, and though we've lost touch in the busy years of raising our own families, sitting down for a good but brief catch-up with Auntie Jo's daughter after the funeral on Friday was like picking up where we left off. I wish there was more time for cousin relationships, and less distance! 

My last in-person visit with my godmother was almost two years ago, when we watched the Edmonton Oilers win a playoff game together. Since then, her granddaughter has won gold and silver medals as a Canadian Women's hockey player in her own right, and the picture below is of Auntie Jo wearing Hailey's gold. She was so very proud of all her offspring, and rightly so. 

Auntie Jo, thank you so much for your presence in my life, for your unwavering support and love, and for not only being a wonderful godmother, but a good friend. I am sure the heavenly choir sounds even better with you in it! I will miss you, especially on our birthdays...

Until we meet again... pass my greetings to everyone there with you...