On July 15th, 1927, Jeanne Olive McRae was born. Her given name was Olive, but as she was quick to tell you, she sure as hell wasn’t going to be called Olive. She (not so) quietly swapped the names legally as quickly as she could.
My grandmother was a sweet, caring, generous soul. But she wasn’t going to live her life on someone else’s terms. Jeanne Herriot, from the beginning, did things her way. I spent the better part of my childhood and adolescence with Gramma Jeanne – here are some of the lessons she taught me through her quiet brilliance.
Show Up For Your Loved Ones
It didn’t matter what it was, how long it lasted, or whether she was interested in the subject matter – Gramma Jeanne was there for her loved ones. When my mother and father decided to have five boys, they took on a serious commitment, as you can imagine. While this commitment was theirs to bear the load of alone, my grandparents didn’t see it that way. Gramma Jeanne was at every football game, every dance recital, every school play, and every birthday party. What sets her apart though, is her willingness to show up on the regular days. The days when many grandparents choose to live their own lives and enjoy their twilight years for themselves. No one would’ve blamed her – after raising four children of her own, she’d earned it. But that wasn’t Gramma Jeanne.
My grandmother was at our home on multiple days every week throughout my childhood. Laughing with us. Caring for us. Tucking us in. Lightening the load on my parents. She never acted as though we were a burden or a responsibility that had been forced upon her. She acted as though we were her purpose. As though helping us succeed as a family was helping her succeed, too. She showed up at every opportunity with a smile on her face and (scotch mint, Werther’s Original, or sweet berry) candies in her pocket.
That resonates with
Giving Builds Connections
Life is about the connections we build. Gramma Jeanne had a network of family and friends that extended well beyond the circle built by the average person. Her secret to building connections was simple: give.
She gave in every way possible (I’ve already detailed her propensity to show up above, but I’ll go further). She loved her church and gave herself and her pocket book to the community every Sunday without fail. She volunteered at my elementary school as a lunch monitor and quickly became more popular at school than any of the Kerby boys could have dreamed. And she gave countless back scratches, hugs, and little kisses all in an effort to soothe and comfort her grandchildren. No one has, or will ever make you feel safer than Gramma Jeanne did when she gave you her love.
Gramma Jeanne also gave through her cooking. We were at her home nearly every Sunday for
When we threw a 90th birthday celebration for Gramma Jeanne last summer, I was shocked to learn just how many people had been touched by her giving nature in the same way I had been. We heard many stories about how her home was always open to children around the community, and her cooking was always the main attraction. She gave her time, love, and food to anyone who needed it with no favor to ask for in return. It’s no surprise that she has so many people today that are proud to call her a friend.
Laugh Whenever You Can
My grandparents saw countless movies together. After almost every one, I have to admit, their reviews were not great. They were usually at least somewhat offended. Their faith often guided them on what could or couldn’t be funny, and profanity often didn’t fly.
Given this, you might think she didn’t have a sense of humor. If you assumed that about Gramma Jeanne, she quickly proved you wrong. My grandmother always knew what made her laugh, and she believed a healthy dose of laughter was good for the soul. In particular, I have fond memories of watching her favorite TV show with her – Seinfeld. Or as she called it, “Jerry” (they were on a first name basis). She constantly would ask when “Jerry” was on, and whether or not I saw “Jerry” last night. His humor spoke to her, and I count it a great blessing that it speaks to me as well. I couldn’t be happier to know that my favorite season of comedic television ever, season nine of Seinfeld, was her favorite as well. It’s a comforting feeling to know that I can throw on that show at any time and still hear her laughing along with me. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Near the end, Gramma Jeanne had lost a lot of her memory. She spoke very quietly, and to the passerby, she may have seemed gone already. But when you spoke to her, as many of her loved ones, friends, and nurses can attest to, she always kept a sense of humor and a twinkle in her eye. She’d often tease, then rub her hand against your cheek as a sign of affection, as if to say, “just kidding”. A lot was taken from my gramma, but her sense of humor was never touched. She flirted with the young caretakers in her nursing home. She called the other residents “old farts”. She laughed whenever she could.
It’s What You Leave Behind
We’re all busy trying to get ahead. Trying to make money, save for the future, keep up with the Joneses. In my Gramma Jeanne’s passing, she’s left one more life lesson that I’ll take with me forever. A lesson to help me remember what’s important.
It’s not what you take when you leave the world behind you, it’s what you leave behind you when you go.
Gramma Jeanne left some of the best people in the world behind her. She shaped them into the people they are today. Loving, giving, funny, gracious, resilient people. When I look at her mark on the world, it’s the people that were closest to her that stand out to me. She’s left behind a beautiful network of children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and friends that no one other than she could have orchestrated. She loved us all passionately, and if there’s one thing we can do to honor her memory, it’s this:
Live with as much love, compassion, and joy that she did.
I hope heaven has herbal tea and Seinfeld reruns, Gramma. I love you with all my heart.