Richard and I arrived at the church a little earlier than usual today.
We wanted to make sure that we saw as many as possible of the relatives as they arrived at the chapel for Sharon Jonsson’s funeral.
Aunt Virginia gave the family prayer. The the mourners followed the casket into the chapel.
As I walked in, I was reminded again of my own father leaning over to me before a funeral started, and saying that the person whose life we were celebrating was so old, that he had outlived most of his own friends, and what we would be seeing was the mourners who were connected to his children, his grandchildren and his great grandchildren.
This was somewhat true of Sharon’s funeral. There were 15 people on the right side of the chapel, 10 on the left side of the chapel and the five middle pews were filled by Sharon’s relatives. I counted one row: eleven people, so there were about 55 of us who walked in behind the casket.
Richard had the only young children there. I heard their soft voices whispering to their mother during the opening prayer. Kerri leaned over to me when the Amens were said and whispered that the little sounds of their voices made a beautiful descant behind the prayer.
Anita gave a brief biography of her mother’s life, touching on her early life in Barnwell, her marriage, her divorce after which she committed herself to raising a “small” family and of surrounding herself with all of the joys that an intellectual life can bring. Anita reminded me again of Sharon’s commitment to her country – that when Alberta was celebrating a jubilee, that the government issued a travel passport and encouraged its citizens to see as many places in Alberta as they could. Sharon used that summer to visit as many of them as she could and had some side adventures that were remarkable, the highlight happening one night when she pulled over to the side of the road to sleep. When she woke she saw the eyes and nose of an elk or a caribou plastered against her car window, its eyes only inches away from hers, looking into her car, as she was looking out at it. Sharon travelled Alberta that year, for Alberta was part of the Grade IV curriculum. Crossing the Peace River in northern Alberta was an event that lingered with Sharon for the rest of her life.
Claire Neville spoke at Sharon’s funeral. Claire was a fellow teacher at the Chinook Park School. Claire and Sharon had a devoted friendship for over 50 years, sharing joys and heartaches as only close friends can do. Claire said that in one of her own moments of profound sorrow, Sharon shared with her a scripture that struck a chord in Claire’s heart. Romans 8:31. If God be for us, who can be against us? Claire said that she and Sharon would be Forever Best Friends.
It is not often that we hear about the professional life of a woman at a funeral. Claire had a good memory for Sharon’s teaching technique. Claire said that in a school assembly Sharon’s class did a themed presentation on Principles of Good Health, complete with costumes that Sharon had made. Claire smiled at the audience and said, "Sharon never lost a chance to teach a good lesson."
She also reminded us that Sharon was on the forefront of an initiative to have in-school libraries, and that in fact, she had gone back to school and finished off her degree in School Library Science. Sharon knew the books in the libraries, the popular children’s authors, and Sharon had a belief that bibliotherapy was a good way to solve individual discipline problems in the classroom. She felt as though there was a book for everyone.
Andria Fisk spoke at the funeral, reminiscing about the times she spent with her grandmother in school libraries, or using the school stage to practise her dancing. And because she was a dancer and needed costumes, she said that her grandmother was the one who made the tutu’s, sewed sequins on costumes or created giant-sized Big Bird style costumes.
When I was viewing Sharon’s body, I noticed a small lap quilt placed under her hands. Sharon’s hands were black and blue, there was no muscle left in them and the skin was draping over the bones in her hands. Richard reminded me that the look of her aging body was not new. We had seen that for many months at Seton Place. To use the phrase of one of the speakers, Sharon had outlived her body.
I asked Virginia about the lap quilt that Sharon’s hands had been resting on, if Sharon had been a quilter, because I have no memories of her at a sewing machine. Virginia said not to her knowledge, but she went up to take another look to tell me where the quilt had come from. When Virginia came back she said that she recognized some of the pieces as ones that belonged to Nadine. I hadn’t ever known Sharon as a sewer, but of course, anytime there is a dancer in the family, there is a need for lots of costumes, so of course, Sharon sewed.
Annika Fisk is the one who reminded us that Sharon’s name was Grandma Rose. Sharon liked to watch movies with Annika and Sharon had her own collection of favourites, three of which they watched over and over, ten times each at the very least.
Larita Barfuss knew of the rose connection to Sharon, and had brought a beautiful heart-shaped wreath of white, pink and red roses filled in with baby’s breath.
Joshua Jonsson told us that in some ways he is from a family of dreamers. This month he made his final visit to see his grandmother. He told of holding her hand and of pouring out his soul to her. And she to him, Sharon wondering if the reason why people didn’t visit her much is because she was no longer funny. Joshua couldn’t think of anything much funnier that she could have said. He said that Sharon gave him the first blanket he was wrapped in as a baby, and when the top of it had worn away and what was now showing was the batting, now matted and having the same rough texture as dryer lint, she gave him his second blanket. Joshua said that in Scouts he wanted to earn his collector’s badge, so he collected coins, thinking this would be a fast way to complete that badge. He didn’t know then that Sharon would pick up on his collection and continue to collect, long after he had lost interest in the project. She also used to bribe him to do things with the promise of the prize of another comic as his reward. He ended up with a large comic collection. He said that she taught him what it was to know a hard-working, practical grandparent.
There is much more to tell. I was sitting right behind Aunt Molly. I loved watching her head, for she would shake it up and down, assenting to the truth of some of the stories that were told about their shared childhood lives. With Aunt Molly was Colleen, Corrine, and Lynda and David Pearson.
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| ... the bruises from Grant's fall ... |
Uncle Grant was sitting with Bruce and Ramona Easthope.
On the icy streets of Calgary’s first snow, Grant took a tumble last week, thus the bruising on the left side of his face.
He has taken a number of tumblers like this one in the last few years.
He just seems to get up and walk away.
While waiting for the family prayer before the funeral service, I sat by Valerie, Darla Mae, Aunt Virginia and Allie Barfuss.
Allie is LaRita’s grade XI daughter who is no stranger to large family gatherings.
I think I enjoyed her the most when the family was preparing to leave and go to the Barnwell cemetery for the interment.
There was many plates of desserts on the table and on each was a different assortment of sweets.
Allie knew to take a snack pack of those treats with her.
Now there is a girl who has been to a lot of funerals. She was focusing on the ginger snap cookies, the kind that come in bulk from Costco. I was tempted to help her find them all, but she was very good at it by herself.
Valerie is making a small business out of her skills in throwing pots.
Darla Mae is looking forward to building a new house – one that will have lots of room for her four children, the oldest of whom is 16. Time is flying there.
Sharon’s former bishop spoke, Joe Lootens. He reminded us all of the parable of the widow’s mite, quoting it extensively, something I always love to hear – the beautiful language of the King James Version of the Bible. He said that the first time he met Sharon she was paying her tithes and offerings and that though she did not have much as we know it, she gave her all and she was was devoted to her Saviour.
Sharon’s home teacher, Stephen McCabe, spoke. He said that Sharon had taught him how to do genealogy. When she knew she had to move and was looking for a place to store her own genealogy, he promised her that she could leave it with him. Little did he know the extent of it, he said, for all of the genealogy he had done with her could be contained on a computer disk. He was a bit surprised to find that she had one dozen apple crates full of genealogy papers. True to his promise, he is storing them.
The musical number was one I haven’t heard for a long time: “In the Garden”.
I am going to reprint the lyrics. If you find yourself humming the melody as you read the lyrics, then you will be one of the old timers who can still remember this piece:
I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses.
Refrain
And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.
He speaks, and the sound of His voice,
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing.
Refrain
I’d stay in the garden with Him
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.
Well, that song comes out of the far distant past, one we heard often in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s. For a couple of utube versions go to
a reasonable a capella version or try listening to
Elvis sing the song if it is not familiar to you.
In the past we heard this song a lot, not just at every funeral.
Kelve had to work at the Coop so that he couldn't go to the funeral, but he came over to our house in the evening and was reminiscing about Sharon. “Remember, every Christmas, she would give us a puzzle. No one else in the house was much interested in putting it together, but I was. Soon I felt proprietary rights over that gift and was miffed if anyone came to try to get in on the fun.”
There is much more to tell.
Of the older people who were there, I would mention Joanne and Ches Pierson, Jerry and Sheila Palmer, Helen (Gaye) Pitcher, and Norma Leavitt.
Cammy and Flip Phillips were there, as well as Preston and Maurine Johnson.
I watched the pall bearers carry the casket to the hearse. Richard and Doral Johnson, Richard McLung, Brian Phillips, Jeff Barfuss, I do not remember them all. I could see some white shirts and ties, and some men in dark suits as they walked Sharon down the sidewalk. They lifted the casket from the wheels it was on, and solemnly walked it to the waiting hearse.
That ritual is a meaningful gesture to me. She was surrounded by those who had loved her.
Arta
Ramona said, "Go to Legacy Funeral Home on the internet, then click on Grant Johnson and then click on the url there to attend the service.
Ramona said, "Go to Legacy Funeral Home on the internet, then click on Grant Johnson and then click on the url there to attend the service.
