On March 14, 2022, my ninety-two year old grandmother passed away. For the last five years or so, she’s been asking me to speak at her funeral because she thought I did such a nice job of doing so for her husband & my grandfather in 2012. I agreed because I knew she was serious and that it would mean a lot to her. However, I wasn’t expecting the occasion to happen when it did (her death was a bit of a surprise to our family), and writing then sharing it was much more difficult than I thought it would be. What’s most important though is that I am so grateful for the opportunity to celebrate my wonderful grandmother’s life since she was a gift to this world, our family, and my life.

Personally, my grandmother was one of my largest cheerleaders. We used email as our main communication method because of her hearing challenges and me not living in my hometown. She used email as a means to encourage me from 1,000 miles away, save all of the awards I won, and print out messages about was happening in my life. I remember when I first started this blog years ago, she was one of the only people to read posts that I wrote and she emailed me telling me how much she loved them. I learned pretty early in the game that not getting more than 3 likes or comments on something you create is normal, but what made that easier was knowing my grandmother was sitting by her desk supporting me every step of the way, even when I couldn’t see it for myself.

It’s for this reason and her unending support that I share her eulogy on this blog. Since she was one of the main reasons I believe in myself as a writer and speaker, it’s only fitting that I honor her by sharing some of her with you all. It might not mean much to you, but it means a whole lot to me, and I know it would for her, too.

This one’s for you, Grandmom, for loving, supporting, and encouraging me always.

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For Grandmom

Shared at Jean F. Galbreath’s funeral on March 21, 2022

It’s hard for me to describe the kind of person that my grandmother was because of how many lives she was in on a consistent basis. To many, she was a friend, helper, resource, Lyme Disease expert and advocate. To our family, she was the beacon, the matriarch, and the one with the most squirrels around her house. To me, she was my pal, a role model, and the hardest goodbye every time I left home. 

As the youngest grandchild, for some reason, I felt like it would be appropriate to throw my family for a loop and be the only one to move out of this area and head all over the east coast and then end up in Kansas City where I live now. I know that this was hard for Grandmom to keep up with, but my goodness, she did her darndest to ensure that she knew about where I was and what I was up to, even though I was far away with jobs that felt impossible to explain. I can’t tell you how many times I wrote down my job title, employer, and address on a piece of paper so she knew where I was and what I was doing so she could explain it to other people. When she did that, I couldn’t help but smile because that’s who she was – the ultimate caring Grandmother who loved to talk about the people who meant the most to her. I am grateful that I was one of those people.

Not only was her family so incredibly important to her, but so were all of the hundreds of people she helped. I was talking to Alex, my oldest brother, the day that she passed, and he said “To say she helped people is an understatement.” He was right. We will never know just how many people she helped, and honestly, that’s okay. That’s not why she did it. She did it because she wanted other peoples’ lives to be good and sometimes better than hers because of her health struggles. And I can’t think of a better legacy to leave on the world than that.

(At this point in writing this, I was crying and knew that I would need a moment of laughter to get through this, so please enjoy the timely inserted jokes.)

When I picture my grandmother, a few things come to mind…

1. When I brought a zoology/animal picture book home from school one day to her house, and her telling me that I wasn’t allowed to open the python page in it because snakes were so evil (and I’ve believed that ever since)
2. When I countlessly walked into her house as she was sitting incredibly close to the TV to watch the Baltimore Orioles…and by that, I mean Chris Davis, because she was oddly committed to that man. So much so that she had a whole folder on her email dedicated to him. (I know he’s great…but Grandmom, was he THAT great?)
3. When she repeatedly told Granddad that he was not allowed to have M&Ms, Granddad then showing me his M&M stash, and me being stuck in the middle as a small child with an inability to lie, awaiting the moment Grandmom caught and yelled at both of us.
4. When she INSISTED to give me gas money every time I came home, even though the gas price was sometimes included in my plane ticket.
5. How she took the best care of any car I have ever seen in my whole life…I mean, that Buick is about my age I think and it looks younger than I do. 
6. When she would send me emails that I could’ve nicknamed “Highland’s Happenings” since they were so long and detailed about everything that was going on around her “block” and in Street. I have never met another individual so dedicated to her neighbors. It was admirable. 
7. When I would proudly explain to all of my non-Maryland friends that my grandmother lived on Street Road in Street, MD. They never believed that I was from a town called “Street” until I brought Grandmom and her house into the conversation.
8. When she would say to me, “I need help on computer,” every time I came home. This usually followed with me writing down directions on a legal pad, and her emailing me within a couple days saying how helpful I was and how she couldn’t believe how well I knew how to work a computer. Little did she know that I was really not that smart, I just could usually answer her simple questions. And by that I mean I was really good at Googling things.
9. When I would eat the literal best food at her house with her and/or Granddad, me going home to tell my parents that she had the BEST food, my parents getting the same exact food and it tasting awful because it wasn’t at Grandmom’s house (sorry, Mom and Dad).
10. And finally, my favorite…her peach pie and applesauce. Not only are they delicious, but no matter where I’ve lived or what I’ve done, they have been the two things that always feel like a piece of her with me. 

I could go on and on, and I know each of my family members could, too. We were so lucky to have her for almost 93 years. I knew this day would come, and she did too. She was ready, I think. Not for some hugely philosophical or theological reason, but literally because my grandmother has been telling me for the last five years that I had to speak at her funeral. No pressure. Thanks, Grandmom.

But seriously, I think it makes sense in some weird way that she died almost 10 years exactly after Granddad. I can’t quite make sense of it yet, but I know it happened in this way with a purpose in mind that only God can know right now. I think of it like the light on the porch she would always leave on for me as she waved goodbye when I pulled out of the driveway before headed to whatever city I lived in. I never quite understood why she HAD to turn it on even when I insisted I could see. But now I get it. Every moment counted and she knew it. Each time, she turned on that light for me just to say goodbye and “I love you” one last time. And I’m so glad she did.

The last note she ever wrote me was on February 4th of this year when I was headed back to Kansas City after some time here at home. For some reason, she decided to include that she wrote it at 1:45 pm on that date, and maybe that’s because she knew I’d need to smile when I reread it writing this for today. She seemed to always understand when I needed a pick-me-up.

But the last sentence she wrote was “Please take this as a THANK YOU – from me. Love you….Grandmom” And those words are all I have to say back to her, too. For all you were and all you did, thank you Grandmom. We all love you and are better because of you.

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In memory of my grandmother:

• Learn more about her commitment and national work in Lyme Disease awareness here (2022)
• Read about her Lyme Disease Support Group’s work here (2017)
• Learn more about her life in her obituary here (2022)