Epitaph for a Free Spirit

Published in slightly edited form Jan. 29, 2014 in Tulare County's Foothills Sun-Gazette


     She was with us, then she was gone.  Known as "Grandma Joyce" at the Methodist Church, at 92 Joyce Slagle was still driving herself everywhere and laying out goodies for fellowship each Sunday, a model of elderly independence and commitment.  But after Thanksgiving she fell ill, and one week before Christmas she crossed into the realm of the eternal, her soul freed from a body full of cancer.


     From things she told me as we cleaned up the church kitchen, I know that she loved to iron, loved family life, loved roses and the people in her church, and understood the importance of order in maintaining freedom of action and thought.  But to learn what made her who she was, I interviewed two of her children, Steven and Kathleen.


     Joyce was preceded in death by her husband Floyd and three sons, one who died shortly after his birth.  Although this can be one consequence of a long life, not everyone survives such losses without losing spirit.  "It was her faith," both kids said quickly.  "She knew they were in a better place.  That's not to say she didn't cry - we all still do sometimes.  But she knew."


    She seems to have known, rightly, other things even when she had no experience to guide her.  After her first date with Floyd, she told her mother "I'm going to marry him."  A year later they did.  "That's all they talked about on that first date," Kathy said.  And it was a marriage that lasted their lifetimes.  Though not squabble-free, Steve said his dad never passed by her without touching or kissing her.  They had a special whistling sound they each made when they'd come into the room.  They loved to dance, both ballroom and square dancing.  "They were in love," Kathy said; " - totally," Steve added.  "I don't think they ever spent a night away from each other until Dad went to Lindsay Gardens."


     Their home was open to friends, and friends of friends, a family that extended out into the community.  Kathy has friends from that time who still seem like sisters.  Steve told about bringing shipmates home on weekends while he was in the Navy.  "About 2 in the morning, Dad would come in and say Okay boys, it's time to go to sleep now.  And we would."


   "She was the wild one," Kathy said of her mother.  "Oh, she had fun..."  One story recounted Joyce drag racing one of Kathy's friends in her little four-speed on the back streets of Laverne, then warning Kathy "Don't tell your father I did that."  Joyce used the same phrase one day while we were putting away food after church.  "Oh, I had fun..." she said of her married life, a sparkle in her eye.


     After listening to their abundant stories of a loving, fun-filled family life with values instilled that have served them well, I remembered a passage by Quaker author Parker J. Palmer, who wrote:  "People who know that they are embedded in an eternal community are both freed and empowered to become who they were born to be."


     It seems to me that Joyce became who she was born to be:  wife, mother, lifelong friend to many and member of the communities she lived in all on her own terms.  She understood she belonged to an eternal community, and helped me see my membership there as well.  May she rest in peace and continue having fun in our hearts.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We celebrated Joyce's life on Saturday, Feb. 1 in Lindsay United Methodist Church, including a potluck meal where we shared our memories.