She showed me what Motherhood and love looked like

I write this in loving memory of JoAnn, my former mother-in-law. She loved me like I was her own. Above all, she showed me what a mother’s love looks like.

JoAnn was cut from the rugged stock of Appalachian mountain people

She was wise beyond her formal education. For example, she knew how to raise a family with little money but lots of love. She also knew how to grow and glean from nature.

I met her on my wedding day in 1970. After all, she was to be my new mother-in-law. I had only a couple of mothers to compare her to. Mine was less than loving and kind to me. Then, there was my best friend’s mother. She worked and was nice, but she was always a little stiff and formal.

JoAnn was nothing like what I expected. Years later, I discovered how my fiancé hurt her tender heart that day. He took me to the Justice of the Peace’s office to get married while she visited her sister. She told me it hurt that he didn’t let her be a part of our important day.

Love was her motivation for living as she did

She loved her family and the outdoors. If she could escape into the mountains, she would.

That’s where she gathered mushrooms, bloodroot, and ginseng. In the spring, there was always hiking up the mountains to dig for ramps. The vegetable resembles spring onions, only more garlicky.

Even in her eighties, you might find her in the garden. She would be tending whatever plants needed attention — or hoeing the weeds. In fact, she wanted to go into the mountains even while she was healing from a broken hip.

My first loving memory: JoAnn accepted me

First of all, JoAnn accepted me. She appeared to care for me and became the mother I needed.

JoAnn taught me how to grow strawberries. She also taught me to make jam, dry apples, pickle pickles, can tomatoes, and save vegetables for the winter. Then there were biscuits. She showed me how to make them and gave me advice on whatever I went to her for.

Still, she never forced advice on me. Instead, she helped me grow into the mother my children needed and that I wanted to be.

When I met JoAnn, I was full of anger and bitterness because of my rejection. It had to be a God thing to soften my heart to accept her love. After all, it would be years before I found this scripture:

Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. (Ephesians 4:31–32 NKJV)

A loving memory of our life in the North Carolina mountains

Early in our marriage, we moved to North Carolina. Mostly, we wanted to get away from my stalking and meddling mother. At the time, I was three months shy of my twenty-third birthday.

I was open to learning from JoAnn and my husband’s grandmother, Bonnie. We attended a Freewill Baptist Church together. Then, we prepared and cooked Sunday dinner together with the other women of the family. It was a glorious life, and I was becoming content.

There would be camping trips, and JoAnn taught me to cook outdoors. In those beautiful mountains, there was creek hiking and waterfalls to awe over. Here, I was learning to praise God’s glory and goodness around us.

In November, with snow falling, I was baptized in a mountain stream. I am a cold-natured person, so the thought of stepping into the water had me fearful. Then, when I took that first step, I was warm all the way through and never felt cold.

Afterward, JoAnn’s sister had us all to her house for lunch. It was glorious because both sides of my husband’s family broke bread together that day.

The snowstorm that left me with a loving memory of JoAnn

Then, the winter snow hit and hit us hard. The baby was sick. Snow kept falling as we drove to the pediatrician’s office. Meanwhile, roads were being closed.

We had not yet learned to stand on the promises of God. Nor did we know how to pray for healing and restoration.

We got the antibiotic and made it home. However, the baby’s temperature kept climbing. Outside, the snow continued to fall. It was over ten inches at this point, and all the roads to the hospital were closed.

We had no phone, so I reached a phone booth and called the doctor’s office. We were told to give him ice baths. The roads would not reopen for a day or two. Besides, that is what the medical staff at the hospital would do. Oh, how that hurt me. But we needed to get his fever down.

My in-laws had come over that morning in case we needed them. Of course, we did. I had never been through a snowstorm or seen this much snow.

Fear gripped me, and I could only whisper a prayer

About midnight, JoAnn said she had an idea. “Let us make an onion poultice and put that on his chest.” Then she said, “I have a little groundhog oil that Granny gave me in my purse. Let us rub his feet with that and hold him close to the heater.” We had a kerosene heater in the center of the living room.

After we did what JoAnn suggested, his fever broke. Finally, I could breathe, and we took turns sleeping briefly. There were six of us for one bed and a couch. Even so, we survived that terrible night.

This snowstorm came a few weeks after my father’s sudden death

While in North Georgia for the funeral, my husband looked at the Want Ads in the Atlanta Journal. He saw plenty of opportunities to make good money. That was especially true now that he had learned how to weld at his current job.

The baby being so sick made him think about moving back to Georgia. So, he came and found a job. As a result, we left our peaceful life and the good people of North Carolina. We also left the church.

It took me a couple of years to find my way back to church. It was there that I discovered the Holy Spirit and was filled. Soon, I joined a women’s prayer group. I also tried to get my husband interested in the things of God again.

About twelve years later, we would divorce.

Many people sever all ties with their former husband's family, but not me

All things considered, I needed this family. I visited them in the mountains of North Carolina, and they visited me in Georgia. When I remarried, they also welcomed my new husband into their family.

Every memory with JoAnn and her family is precious.

There should be more people like JoAnn, who was sweet, understanding, patient, and kind. She had the fruit of the Spirit. Because of it, she loved all those around her and brought us all joy.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law. And those who are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. (Galatians 5:22–26 NKJV)

Grief, faith, and holding on to a loving memory

Grief is complicated. It can close your mind to all the good you did for that person, or they did for you.

That may be the case for the granddaughter who has cared for JoAnn for many years. She may think she wasn’t able to do all she should have. Let the “should haves” go. They are from Satan.

It was JoAnn’s time. God had taken a long time to build the mansion for this lovely lady. Her worry lines were hidden behind the laugh and smile lines. Indeed, her face was a road map from good mountain living. It was a map I would have liked more time to study.

Over the last several years, her physical health deteriorated. So did her mind, slipping further and further into places we couldn’t understand. That’s when I did most of my grieving. It’s been hard, but knowing she is with the Lord and her people gives me peace and joy.

I share this story in loving memory of JoAnn.