Funeral Program for Ollie J - Dec. 30, 2004

A Service in Loving Memory of Ollie J

Funeral Service
11:00 a.m. Thursday, December 30, 2004
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
With Internment to follow in local family plot with husband

Prayers and Remarks by:
Cousins, Son-in-Law, Sister, Nephews-in-Laws, Nephews, Bishops, Former Bishops
Pallbearers: Nephews, Great-Nephews, Cousins

Ollie J
January 20, 1915 to December 27, 2004

A native of Wayne County (NC), Ollie was the daughter of the late Charlie and Bertha and was the widow of Jasper (Jack). She was a home-maker and a farm wife. She was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

She is survived by her daughter Mary and her husband L.C. (Max) of Connecticut; her grandchildren, [Auntie Nettie] of New York; Jed (Max) and his wife Kelli of Nevada; and J and his wife Christina of Utah; her sisters, Shirley, Ruby and Dorothy of Logan, Utah, and Martha of Ogden, Utah, and her brother, Henry of Hampstead, NC.

She was preceded in death by a sister Betty and a brother, Hyrum.

“God saw that you were getting tired
and a cure was not to be.
So He put His loving arms around you
And whispered, “Come with me.”
With tearful eyes we watched you suffer.
We saw you fade away,
Although we loved you dearly,
We could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
Hard working hand were put to rest,
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He only takes the best.”


God looked around his garden
And found an empty space.
He then looked down upon this eath
And saw your tired face.
He put his arms around you,
And lifted you to rest.
God’s garden must be beautiful,
He always take the best.


He knew that you were suffering,
He knew you were in pain.
He knew that you would never,
Get well on earth again.
He saw the road was getting rough,
The hills were hard to climb.
So He closed your weary eyelids,
And whispered, “Peace by thine.”
It broke our hearts to lose you,
But you did not go along.
For a part of us went with you,
The day God called you home.

While Grandma Ollie had long had her funeral planned, I think even she realized that funerals are really for the living and that sometimes plans have to change. Grandmary made a few important changes to the service. At one point in my life, when I was a more accomplished pianist, the plan was that I was to perform something. (I'm sorry. It's hard enough to expect people to speak coherently at a loved one's funeral, but to perform?) As years passed and I stopped performing, I knew that this would be less likely, but I lived in fear that I would still have to participate in other ways. I knew that I would most likely be the only grandchild at the funeral, having to represent my brothers and their spouses, so I was also petrified that I would have to speak. Not only would this have been odd, but not quite fair. Grandma Ollie acted in loco grandparentis to many of her siblings' grandchildren, and, in many ways, was closer to them.

Fortunately, I was not called upon to speak in favor of people who knew her better and longer, and in different aspects of her life. Aunt Ruby represented her siblings. Nephews, cousins, and great-nephews acted as clergy and pallbearers. And then Grumpa Max spoke for Mom and the grandchildren. Songs were sung. Tears were shed. Comfort was shared.

The funeral was followed by a simple graveside service, with dedicatory prayers, flowers, and family. Ollie was buried in the family plot next to Grandpa Jack, near her parents, siblings, and very near the old family homestead. Respects were give to us, but I slipped away for a moment or two to clean off Grandpa Jack's footstone and to make sure Aunt Rachel's plot was clean.

North Carolina winters are raw and cold, so it was wonderful to return to church where the good Southern church ladies had prepared comfort food to warm and sooth the soul. Forget what you've eaten in Southern buffets, or what's being passed off in other places, true "soul food" is food prepared and served in tribute and in service of one who has also toiled, served, and been loved.

Post Script:

When I started the Grandma Recipes and Letters project earlier this year, I had a sense of the timing of these entries. I had remembered losing Grandma Roa at Easter and Grandma Ollie at Christmas. The more I really look at the dates, and think about histories, connections, and my link in the cosmic chains, the more I appreciate and begin to understand Roa, Ollie, and our places in the time line.

If I had started January 2010 with the letters, this would have been a logical subject and year conclusion. However, there are a few more months of letters yet to post, and in a way, I'm glad. I've found that I'm not ready to stop writing about these women quite yet. I have more recipes to test, through them more relationships with aunts and cousins to cultivate and grow, more branches of both sides of the family tree to climb through, and, by extension, more to learn about myself.

As ever, by placing all of this information up on the blog, I hope these entries can provide the nieces and nephews with a glimpse of their Auntie Nettie, her past, and give them an appreciation of their remarkable relatives.