Jean at sixteen
On Sunday,
September 20th, my cousin, Jean Thompson, passed away.
Jean grew up
in Kansas, and I grew up in California. I didn't even know she existed until I
was in my late 40's, doing research for Tainted Legacy, and Alice Lee (Zangaro)
suggested I call her for information on the Williams family, telling me that we
were probably related. We were, but I didn't know that until Jean kindly sent
me pages and pages of the Williams genealogy. I had some trepidation about
calling her at first, but she was immediately kind, open and
embracing—characteristics which she apparently extended to most folks
throughout her life, regardless of how she met them.
It seems
strange to acknowledge that I never met her in person. After we connected, we
spoke every few months by telephone; whenever I had an hour or so to spare on a
Sunday and needed to laugh, I would call her. Because she and my grandmother
grew up in the same geographical region (although Jean was much, much younger),
she reminded me of Grandma Lila every time we spoke, using such expressions as
"I'm not a-gonna do it" (something she stated emphatically to the
doctor who told her to quit smoking) and adding that elusive "r" to
"warsh, as in, "We had to warsh up the floor after Murphy brought us
a bird this mornin'." Murphy was her black cat.
Like all the
women in the Williams line, including my mother, grandmother and
great-grandmother, Jean might have seemed simple in her speech and demeanor,
but she was highly sophisticated in her intellect and insight into the human
condition. Our conversations always began with light-hearted, jovial humor, but
at some point we would begin to talk about our kids and grandkids, and she
amazed me with what she understood about human behavior. Truly, she was an old
soul with unfathomable wisdom.
Beyond that,
the attribute most characteristic of her was the love she exuded for everyone,
and I mean everyone. She adored her children, her grandchildren and her
great-grandchildren—and everyone associated with them. Although she'd never
spoken to any of my kids or grandkids, she asked about them often when we
talked. At the end of every conversation, we always engaged in a gentle
competition to see who could out-love the other. ("I love you a million."
"Times ten! Ha ha ha!" "I love you to the moon and back!")
Jean always won.
When she
passed, the outpouring on her Facebook page was extraordinary. People are still
posting notes of love and remembrance all these weeks later. She is deeply and
daily missed by her family. She is certainly missed by me. And she will be
missed by all those great-grands who grow up without her influence. But she has
left a legacy in the way she has raised her children, and they will now step up
to be those who readily love and embrace others as she did, a great heirloom to
treasure from a truly great lady.
