June Johnson

June was my mother.  I am the oldest of her living children.  I am glad that I was able to call in to talk to her and to record audio for her to hear during her last few days with us.  Rest in peace, mother... We miss you. 

I am the 3rd and youngest son of June.  I to am happy that she is now at peace. I love my mother and miss her deeply.  Mom was a woman of strong conviction and while I did not share in the conviction I always new she loved me and I hope she felt the same from me. 
Much love to you mom. Sleep well. 
 

Mathew. 

Growing up with frequent visits to the farm to see my grandparents lit up my life. I loved it there. I would go see grandma June and quickly head out to the barn to see grandpa Bud and my dad Phil milking cows. I always wanted to help with the chores, I loved bottle feeding the calf’s. Afterwards, they would direct me to the current batch of kittens and I would trudge  through the manure to get to them.

   My Grammy was always busy in the flower garden, cooking and reading.  She would take the time to share the information and do her absolute best  explaining it to me. She love the Bible, history and the stock market. I got her full attention as she conveyed  the importance of each subject.

I invested my time and energy in each one, thanks to her inspirational direction. 

 Her guidance helped my husband and I to purchase our first home. We used the money form the stocks she had recommended. After we were approved for a loan, my grandma,  always the investor, took the loan agreement herself. Which helped us out tremendously.  She was always there for me.  She had reasoned it out that it “benefited her“,

but it was her generous offer that got us that home. 

     Thankfully, we had it was all paid back 3 months before the Campfire. Even then, she was extremely concern about our future.  

  My heart is broken that we couldn’t make a place available to accommodate her and her needs. It isn’t how I wanted that stage of life to go. 

  I spent numerous nights at grandmas. My Grams was a collector of many odds and ends, including lots of dolls some of which we loved, others not so much. The upstairs attic was full of garage sale treasures that were fun to pull out and play with during the day. But some toys brought me terror at night. 

Grandma would try to ease my fear.  She had the Tetragrammaton on her back door. Explaining to me that evil wasn’t welcome. 

Thankfully that sticker AND my cousin Spring help me sleep though the night. 

    Eventually I was able to successfully get rid of the toys that bothered me, to be able to live there, as grandma recovered from a fall. 

She loved to cook, and now it was my turn to cook for her. Her favorite was this fried “burrito“.  I went round and round with her how it was a chimichanga, but grandma always being right, said no it’s just a fried burrito. The smoke always hung heavy in the air after cooking.  I’m not sure why she loved it so much, I thought they were terrible. I preferred the squash that came in from grandpa‘s vegetable garden. 

   Waking up in the morning, coming down the stairs there was an young man sitting at the table, he had come to work with grandpa milking cows. Surprised to see him, I hear my grandma yell to me from the living room, “Go wash your hands, you’ve been scratching your butt all night“.

   Mortified, I promptly ran back upstairs  and washed my hands. There would be no arguing that. I must’ve been around 12, and I would see that cute young boy off and on, always recalling our first encounter with a bush. 

     I was lucky to have my relationship with Granny. I always felt so loved by her. I know she was hard on others, I never felt it was justified or right. It was, “a lost opportunity for love” to quote my aunt. I will take that knowledge, and learn from it. 

I love my family. I want them to always know how much they mean to me. 

My grandma was funny and loving, I didn’t know her any other way. As dementia and Alzheimer’s set in, I could see another personality that I personally wasn’t familiar with. It brought me knowledge, understanding and new sympathy for those that suffer. 

      My grandma would tell me stories of her growing up. She share these memories of her mom and dad, living in Canada, bike riding around Stanley Park. We would Google map her house where she had lived. 

How she met my grandpa Bernard, married and move to California. The struggles of divorce, raising four children as a single mom. Making her way back to the Canadian border. Meeting and marriage to my grandpa Malcolm. He was a man of tall stature, so handsome and gentle, with four kids of his own. She would tell stories of her mother that would leave us both in stitches laughing. As an adult I’m not sure they were as funny as she made them.

But it was different times. Help to bring some understanding to her personality.

 And as always, the important of finances, how much she enjoyed English history. Lots of Bible prophecies and how they impact life today.

She would meet us at Skookum creek, and float the the river with us. The adults took turns picking us up at the bridge. Justin George, a young “adult” of 16, would pack us all in the back of a truck and race back to the campground. Sunburns and mosquitoes, a campsite FULL of family, trips to a porta potty, life was good, and my grandma was apart of it all.

After grandpa passed away, she found herself  living in Paradise, California. The slower pace, found her outside every day. Mornings we would all have coffee by the fountain, the afternoons found her reading a book in her yard. Evenings we had dinner altogether, often in the yard. When she would walk the driveway, Marinn would run out and jump on her walker, and Great grandma would push her up and down, now instructing Marinn on the importance of the Bible, finances, and history.

   Grandma June was a strong willed woman, uncompromising in her beliefs, quick and at times-hot tempered, take it or leave it, personality.  Eager to laugh, suspicious at times, with a smile. 

I loved her, as grandma would always say, “warts and all”

I am so sorry she didn't get her family during her last year. I hope the many memories of times with her will sustain your family. Much love to you during this profound loss

Last week I scattered Mom's ashes.
 
I put some by the Kingdom Hall she happily attended for many years. 

Then I put some in a apple tree where Bev and Jenny put some of Dads ashes years ago, so in that sense they are together again.

I sprinkled some by the pond next to a lovely willow tree, where she would have enjoyed the view of the farmland her and Dad worked so hard put together

Then finally down by the river to a spot I go to nearly every day  where I sit and watch the seasons change. Mom would have loved it....