When my maternal grandmother lost her mother when she was just an infant, she was sent, along with her older sister Edith, to live with relatives. Her father eventually signed over guardianship to his Quaker family, but made them promise to raise the girls in the Methodist faith. Jennie Jo went on to marry my grandfather Charlie and had six children. Their oldest daughter died in her twenties from lupus complications. Jennie Jo kept the family together as Charlie drifted from job to job. After he died, she was left practically penniless, forcing her to live the rest of her life with various relatives, including our family. She died on a frigid Christmas Day, leaving behind a grief-stricken nine-year old girl. My Nana was an accomplished pianist, a great cook, and always smelled of White Shoulders. I inherited her birthmark and her talent for making a flaky pie crust.
I decided to name this blog Jennie Jo: In The Presence of Wonder to honor her proud spirit. I will allow her guide me as I seek out the presence of wonder in this messy world, searching for mysteries, fairytales, and glorious moments that connect me with the past and point me toward the future.
“Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.” E.B. White
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