The Church, this world, and our family lost a giant this past Saturday. Not a giant in stature, she was a rather petite woman. Not a giant of education, although she attended college during a time when most women didn't. Not a giant of wealth, though wealth is measured in far more than monetary means. Rather we lost a giant of faith and holiness.
My Gramma Jeanne spent 91 years on this earth. For the 32 years I knew her and, I'm sure for most of the almost 60 before that, she embodied holiness beyond anyone else I knew. Her holiness was beyond the public tenants that a lot of self-proclaimed holy people practice. She gave to the church but probably only my uncle who took over balancing her checkbook really knows how much she gave. She prayed - a lot - without making it a public spectacle. She learned about and grew in her faith and loved it deeply but recognized the humanity of The Church. She practiced social justice as part of her daily living.
Living alone for the majority of her last 31 years after my grandpa passed in 1984, her holiness was quiet. I knew she attended Mass most days, I assumed she gave to the offering, I heard passing stories of her service but until I lived with her over the course of a few years, I didn't fully understand how deep her faith ran. She WAS holiness.
She was a walking example of how one should live.
She stocked up on pantry supplies so she could donate to the church food drives.
She unabashedly welcomed all family members and their significant others regardless of race or sexual inclination despite growing up in rural Montana during the early part of last century.
She cherished marriage - attending all weddings and giving the best advice (don't give up your bed for anyone and whoever asks for the divorce gets the kids).
She did not judge whether you were struggling to find yourself and needed a job or going through a identity crisis or in a dead-end marriage. But she did not stand for cruelty.
She drank beer, wine, and whiskey when she wanted but I never saw her overindulge.
She claimed she wasn't a baby person yet found her rocking my week old first born having grabbed him from his rocker because he looked sad all alone.
She "leaned in" far before that was a catch phrase running both gift shops at the two major hospitals until almost 80.
She traveled a lot because, as she told me many times, why not and how else would she learn about other people?
She was a wife, a mom, a sister, an aunt, a gramma, and a great-gramma. She was our matriarch and a beautiful soul. She is now gone from this earthly life to be in the next. She will be missed.
