Eulogy for Johnnie Maxcey by Jeff Maxcey

Prelude:

Unfortunately, tragedy in my family came early and often. After losing my father at such a young age, I also endured the passing of my grandfather two years later. In the decade that followed, my grandmother, whom I always had a great relationship with, became by best friend. Unless there was a catastrophe, I saw Granny twice a week until I got my first full time job. Even though I was over Sundays I usually saw her more often than just that. Everyone in my family was devastated when she suddenly passed in 2006. I lost my best friend. I wrote the following Eulogy, which I gave to my Uncle a few days before her funeral. Other than a few grammatical errors, he didn't change one word, and handed it back to me. Giving the eulogy was one of the toughest things I ever did in my life. My adrenaline was flowing and someone remarked later that I looked angry. I remember almost coming unglued a couple of times, but managed to make it through and off the podium when I did come unglued. With the exception of the first and last sentences in brackets that I ad-libed and noted down after I sat down, the below is what I wrote before hand and delivered.

[Boy, I've got some tough acts to follow]

My Grandmother, Johnnie Pauline Danner Maxcey, lived an exciting 85 years. I like to joke that she was born during the Wilson Administration. She lived through fifteen Presidencies. She grew up during the Great Depression. She married my grandfather, James Worth Maxcey, when she was 15 and he was 21. They met in the classroom: he was her history teacher. She saw her husband off to war and waited patiently for his return. She became a mother and raised her children during the Cold War. After seeing two of her children and her husband pass before her, she became invigorated with her 6 grandchildren and, in this new century, 5 great grand children. 

She had many names. Her children called her 'Munny' because my father could not pronounce 'Mommy.' Her friends called her 'Polly.' Her Grandchildren, 'Granny', and her cousins 'Aunt polly.' I didn't know her first name was Johnnie until I was 21 years old. 

She did for me as she did fr you. She tried to raise you. She tried to be your friend, your adviser. She always loved you. In a time when family bonds are breaking down, hers got stronger. An only child, she constantly reached out to distant Danners, Maxceys, Boekes, Nettleships, Jacksons, Landons, and then to Oherliens, Smiths, Wendleburgs, and Tildens. 

She was a strong woman. She never saw fear. She never regretted a decision she made and she had a sharp mind, all the way to the end. Think about that folks. That's not a bad way to leave this planet when you meet the Creator. 

She was our matriarch, and there shall never be another. She did only what she thought she could do; what we should do. She saw a world and tried to live in it. She saw a wound and tried to heal it. She saw a rift and tried to close it. She saw a family and tried to love it. 

We all shall always love her. We all shall always miss her. Her memories now are lost like tears in the rain. But our memories of her live on, so she lives on in us. A Munny, a Polly, a Granny, a Johnnie. A Danner. A Maxcey. 

I bid her a most affectionate fare well. 

Your loving, Jeffrey

[I can't believe she's not going to fuss over me anymore]