A prime example is her later years spent living in our home with her cat, Rosie.
She wasn’t a nice cat. Like, at all. She would claw and scratch at you for merely attempting more than one pet. Unless you had food, she would rarely come when called. But like clockwork, starting during a commercial break and ending up going through an entire afternoon- you searched the entire house for Rosie. Making endless laps around the house for a cat who never wanted to be found.
You would pass anyone in the house asking, “Where’s the cat?”, or shout upstairs, “Hey! Where’s the cat?”, even despite any of us being on an important phone call at the time. You were committed. Camped at the doorway to the porch for hours, shouting outside for Rosie, for fear she ran away to never come back. Only to find out Rosie has been sitting behind you the entire time, waiting for you to feed her.
No matter how nasty Rosie was, Grandma continued to pour love towards her. It’s an amusing anecdote sure. But the more I reflect on that time period, I see it more as allegory.
It’s a story of unconditional love.
To rewind the clock a little further…
Her role as my grandmother started atypical; spoil my siblings and I during Holidays, Birthdays, Graduations. Babysit from time to time to give parents a break. Treat us by taking us out to restaurants for celebrations, events, or just because.
Things would change after her husband (my grandfather), Francis’s passing. Her relationship with me and my immediate family would take on new shape and intensity as she would move into our new home with us. Following 50 years of marriage, she had to say her final good bye to her beloved husband, and “Hello” to 3 severe adolescences.
With no disrespect, we, just, didn’t know exactly what to expect. I was approaching 4th grade and she was approaching the 4th quarter of life. But we quickly grew to appreciate having grandma become a fixture of our home, not sure how long it would last.
What we thought going to be her final residence- SURPRISE- turned out to be over 20 years of living together under the same roof!
(I almost don’t want to admit how long she lived with us, for those keeping notes how long I was for living with my parents and grandmother.)
Living at home was just as much a convenience for a wide-eyed (and broke) millennial such as me, as it became for my aging grandmother. I was there, able-bodied, and happy to assist her during times of struggle.
It was an education observing the difficulties and humility required in getting older. It gave me a deeper appreciate for life. Her perseverance for a positive attitude amongst all the aches and pains, etc. Her unwavering faithfulness. Her relentless kindness to strangers. Her smile was always warm, inviting you to be her new “buddy.”
She certainly led by example.
She was a faithful servant for the Lord. In the 70’s she helped strengthen and shape the charismatic renewal for religious folk at her church in Upstate, NY. She ran and organized prayer groups to grew from a few to a few hundred.
She was responsible to bringing her family closer to God. Starting with her husband, and then my father. She helped her other son, my uncle, to overcome his problems with alcohol issues in his life. She helped healed and nurture.
It brought me closer to my faith and continued to make me a better version of myself.
Janice had a lot of love to give: family, friends, and especially her animals.
I’m know her legacy will live on. Now I’m the one roaming around my apartment at all hours of the day saying, “Where IS the cat?!” (You’ve trained me well.) She must be enjoying the irony of that.
My family has always subscribed to the adage, “If you’re not laughing you’re crying.” Not to downplay us and say we aren’t a faith-filled, compassionate, loving, and understanding people, because we certainly try!
But cracking jokes, often at each other’s expense, is just our medicine. it’s gets us through life.
For me, at times, I can be addicted. And when I pursued that in writing, I learned you need to write what you know. It wasn’t a big surprise to find, more often than not, topics like being a broke man-child, and living with my 90-something year old grandmother would end up making it’s way into some of the pieces I wrote for shows, blogs, and anywhere else.
Including family and friends in my writing was always out of love, never ill-will. If you get to know me, I a great capacity for laughter, sometimes that includes a darker sense of humor. I like to roast the ones I love. If you get to know my dad, you know where I get it from. I’m not saying he got it from Janice, she wasn’t the controversial type, but she did take great joy in cheering someone up, even if it meant light-heartedly poking fun at herself to brighten the mood.
Even in tough times like dealing with death of a dearly loved one. I know, for a FACT, that if my Grandma were alive today, and I asked her what her secret is in getting through the funeral, she would say…
“….WHaT?…”
(Because she was very hard of hearing.)
And I would say,
“WHAT is your SECRET of getting through a funeral?”
She would smile and say,
“…………… … ….
…WHAt Now?…”
And I would repeat (with much greater emphasis), “WHAT IS YOUR SE-CRET TO GET-TING THROUUGH A FUUUNERRAL??”
She would pause. Take a moment. Curl her bottom lip, and gently respond to me,
“Huh? Who’s funeral?”
And I would say, “Oh for the love- NO. I’m ASKING YOU. WHAT. IS. YOUR SE-CRET. TO GET THROUGH A SAD FUNERAL?? HOW do you get through it?! DO you have a SE-CRET?”
And she would finally say, with lots of warmth,
“Hun,
…what was that again? I can’t hear anything you’re saying. Get closer.”
And I would gesticulate, “GRANDMA, ARE YOUR BATTERIES WORKING? IN YOUR HEARING AIDS? CHECK YOUR BATTERIES.”
And she would say, “Huh?”
And I would say, “BAT-TERIES.”
And she would say,”Oh, Yeah! They were changed a bit ago.”
And she would test them out. And one would not be working.
And I would say, “HANG ON LET ME GET A NEW ONE, HERE.”
And she would say, “HEY. This one’s not working.”
And I would say,” I KNOW. HANG ON A SECOND.”
And she would say, “Huh?”
And I would help replace the battery in the hearing aid that’s not responding and I would say,
“OK. Is that better?”
And she would say, “Yeah. That’s a lot better.”
And I would say, “Ok. Great.”
And she would say, “Hey, do you know where the cat is? I haven’t seen her.”
And I would say, “She’s sleeping on the couch, as always.”
And she would say, ”On the couch?”
And I would say, “Yeah, she’s been there all morning.”
And she would say, “Oh …ok. What was it you wanted again?”
And I would say, “I don’t remember anymore. Don’t worry about it.”
And she would say, “Ha. Oh, ok.”
And I would say, “Do you want me to turn on the TV for you?”
And she would say, “What?”
And I would say, “TV? You want me to turn on the TV?”
And she would say, “Oh yeah! That sounds good. I think ‘Dancing With the Stars’ is on tonight.”
And I would say, “Oh yeah?”
And I would turn on the television and shortly leave her room, going about my business.
BUT IF we managed to get there, I bet my Grandma would say that the secret to getting through a funeral is through laughter.
Grandma, you made me laugh. I’ll miss that terribly.
I’ll miss having you celebrate the big moments in life, as much as I will the smaller, seemingly mundane moments, like watching tv in the evenings with you.
But I am happy knowing you’re reunited with your husband, your son Jim, you mom, dad, sister and the rest of your family and friends. I’m confident all of your pets came rushing to greet you before anyone else could!
I’m eternally grateful for all you have done for me and given me. I feel better knowing that you’re the one that’s Dancing with the Stars now. So,
Thank you.
You brought a lot of joy and warmth to our home with your great capacity for love.
and laughter.
…and cats.
Love,
Chris
A Tribute to My Grandmother, Janice Scherr (Dec.19, 1920 - Dec. 3, 2020)
“Well done, my faithful servant. Come and share in eternal happiness.”
