Memory Book

When someone special to us is no longer present in the physical sense , memories are what we have to cling to. Thank You for letting us share some of our memories of our Jo with you. We’d love to hear from you with a memory of her you have that you can share with us. As time goes on we’ll add to our book of memories.

December 21,2005

Precious Johanna. I start this book of memories today. Today because it marks 20 years since you were conceived.. December 21,1985. I remember how much you hated, or pretended to hate, the story of that night. Dad picked me and Michael up at the airport in Toronto. It had been almost 2 months since we’d seen him and now we were moving to our new home. 1468  Andros  Blvd., Mississauga, Ontario. Michael fell asleep in the car and we put him right into bed. Dad and I enjoyed a bottle of champagne his boss gave him. We sat in front of the fire in the fireplace. I will always remember the love and passion  you were created in. That Jo, was just the beginning.

December 22, 2005

The first few weeks of having you with me were not very nice. Constant nausea and vomiting. So much that the doctors wanted to take you from me then. I was offended at even the thought. You were our baby and we loved you. The weeks passed and so did the nausea and vomiting. The end of March we moved to Belleville. March 28,1986, driving down highway 401 in a U-Haul truck , I felt your first flutter. From then your flutters became kicks and my belly grew to a size I thought would explode. Your brother became interested then in his “baby sister”. He could see you growing and would lie on my belly for you to kick him or keep his hand there so he could feel you move. He already loved his baby sister. In August Nan Stanley came to be with us. The doctor thought you would arrive early but I guess you took your time getting ready because you didn’t make your appearance until exactly your due date. September 15,1986. Your Dad got to hold you first. The first look I got , you were bundled up with only your round face and big eyes showing. Cuddled in your Dad’s arms. We had our baby girl!

December 23, 2005

By Thursday we were on our way home. Already you were independent and strong willed. No matter how long I tried, no way would you would you settle in to nurse at my breast. You’d cry until I’d give in and feed you from a bottle. You knew what you wanted and how to get it even at 3 days old. That never changed, only became stronger in your 19 years. As the weeks passed, our trips to the grocery store even became a nightmare. You hated going in the car and screamed from the time we put you in till we took you out. Years later when you used to get car sick we understood. In January at 4 months old you got sick enough to be admitted to hospital with bronchiolitis. You were in a croup tent, so was I. As soon as we were able to get you home we did and I made a mist tent in your carriage with the cool mist humidifier. There was so much mist we couldn’t see you through it. By January 25th you were well enough to be baptized. Holloway Street United Church, Rev. Ken Norman. Johanna Amy Lillian ……our sweet Jo.

December 24, 2005

Your first Christmas we were at the apartment on Sydney Street in Belleville. Michael didn’t mind  having to open your gifts for you. There were lots from home. You and your Nan Noseworthy  both loved Christmas.

During the winter and spring you sat up and learned to walk.You skipped crawling. Your walking started out as runs that ended in falls. When you were 9 months old we went to Sears and had family pictures taken.They are hung at the end of the hall upstairs in the house.We were not long home when you fell head first  into the edge of the coffee table,giving yourself a horn in the middle of you head.

In September 1987 we took our first visit home from Ontario.We drove and you hated it.You spent your first birthday in George’s Brook at Nan and Gramps.Grammy Noseworthy and Nan Pelley were there.Aunt Louise gave you a pretty pink dress to wear.We had another party in St.John’s at Nan and Pop’s.You always thrived on attention. I remember one time when you were 4 or 5, you decided to pack your bag and leave. You came downstairs with your bag and announced your departure. Dad and I kissed you good-bye. Little did we know we’d do that one last time so soon. That day Dad opened the front door for you and you made it as far as the step and changed your mind.Not until this past spring did you speak of leaving us again. Actually, for some time you insisted on never leaving home. How we wish now it was so.

December 25, 2005

Today I remember Christmas’ past.Only 19 of them. This morning we smelled the turkey cooking as we woke up. Last year I had to work so I was cooking supper. You were not pleased about no turkey smell waking up. I actually bought a turkey breast and cooked it overnight so you did get to smell your turkey cooking your last Christmas on earth.

Every one of your 19 Christmas’ you went to bed in your own home on Christmas Eve. Your first Christmas was in Belleville and your second in Marystown.Your third and every one after was right here in Garnish. You were terrified of Santa your second one and we have a picture of you and Michael in his arms with you crying. You also have a big mark on your nose you got from a fall at Nan Stanley’s when you went into her flower pot. You and Michael were always up early Christmas morning. So early one time that Dad and I were still wrapping your presents and you were at the top of the stairs. We had to convince you Santa didn’t come yet  and you had to go back to bed. We bought ourselves 2 hours sleep. Christmas 2004. You in your Winnie the Pooh robe. Your big feet in your new foot spa. I’ll always remember how much you loved Christmas.

December 28, 2005

There are so many memories that race through my mind that I don’t know how to start writing sometimes. Right now as I get into bed I’m remembering the countless nights my sleep was scarce and broken. When you were just a baby your favorite  time to be awake was between midnight and 7 AM. The winter we spent in Marystown  you and I spent a lot of nights downstairs with you playing quietly and we watching an old movie. We’d be just gone back to sleep when dad was getting up for work. After we moved to Garnish we put you into a little bed. Just as well the way you climbed out of the crib. Several times a night you’d come out to our bed. I’d wake up with a little hand touching my face. I’d take you in bed with us till you’d fall asleep and then I’d carry you back to your own bed. Dad and I took turns some nights. There were nights we’d repeat the process 5 or 6 times. You were about 3 years old when you finally slept all night.

January 16, 2006

As I’ve read some of the memories I’ve already written my mind is crowded with so many more. I’m afraid I’ll forget them before I can write them down.You always had a knack for getting into one crisis after another. You were only 2 when you almost choked on a short bread cookie. Soon after you and Michael collided while you were running around the house and you fell backwards and hit your head on the archway.That was your first set of stitches. The next set came when you were sliding out on Susie’s Hill and your head connected with a rock. A little older you liked to taunt and Glenn Knott was a good target one day. You stood in the lane calling at him as he tossed rocks back at you…..”you can’t hit me, you can’t hit me”…..over and over you sang out at him.Until ….yep, you got hit. Yet another trip to the emergency department. Your beautiful face so swollen you were hardly recognizable. Thankfully you only had a tiny mark left to remind you not to taunt.

January 30, 2006

I sit here now at work on my first set of nights since you left. Every night this weekend I’ve expected you to be calling every time the phone has rung. Being here reminds me of your many calls to me at work. Some just to  say hi and tell me you loved me. Others with just one more crisis for me to help you with. One of my most recent memories was in May when your cat Gizmo had just moved into town with you. He got out of the house on a cold wet night. You were so upset. You called all night every couple of hours. Finally by 7 AM Gizmo found his way home and saved me a trip into town that morning.

I remember the look on your face when Dad finally agreed to let you have a cat. Was the first time you were happy to hear there were mice around! The night we went to the SPCA shelter Gizmo stole your heart. He’s a beautiful cat . I know how much you love him.

May 16, 2006

There are always memories I’m re-living,but lately I find myself only able to remember over and over the day our lives changed forever. Today I remember too. One year ago this day Dad and I helped you get what turned out to be a lethal weapon. Your new car. I remember discussing in every car we looked at, how much protection you had in it if you ever had an accident. The Sunfire won out because we felt it was the most reliable with a front end to protect. Shows you how much we know. Dad parked your new car in front of the place you were working so you could see it through the window and I picked up groceries to have in your trunk when you got off. We went in to your work and got our usual hug and kiss before we left for home, me in the van and Dad driving Michael’s new Sunfire. Was such a good deal we bought 2 of them that day. Before we got to Whitbourne you were calling Dad, another crisis and you were still at work. Seems a shopping cart had blown across the lot from Zellers and hit your car. I wonder if that manager knows what happened to you. You went straight to him with a few suggestions and got the damage covered. That damage was nothing to what it got only a few weeks later.

In June Dad and I had holidays. We rode the Goldwing into town and spent some time with you. I made turkey soup, one of your favourites. I can’t remember how many lasagna I made and froze for you. Dad insisted on getting a phone and put by your bed in case you had an emergency. I can see you and him now on the livingroom floor assembling the new TV stand. The day we left on the bike to go to the Ride for Sight, we met you for lunch at Klondyke Jakes. You didn’t like to see us in our leathers in front of your friends. We had already ordered nachos and wings. When you walked in I will never forget the feeling I had, I looked at you and my whole body from my chest outward felt so warm. You radiate such beauty. You were totally unaware of the heads turning to your direction as you made your way to us. I watched as you talked and ate and I saw how your beauty made everyone around you watch too. You were oblivious to it all. I felt so much pride and love for you. You ordered a grilled cheese sandwich, saying it was the best one you ever had when you were finished.

Fathers Day was that following Sunday. You called Dad on his cell phone and left a message. We were in Gander. When we called you back you were too busy with friends at Pizza Delight and didn’t have time to talk. Soon after you called us with another crisis, food poisoning it sounded like. We called Julie to rescue you for us. The next time I saw you was the next Saturday June 25^th. I took Nan Stanley to Charlie Pride’s show for aunt Linda. You were already at work when we got in town. Nan and I picked Nan Noseworthy  up and spent the afternoon at the Village. We met you at the food court for supper. The Nan’s had A&W and we had our chili deal. As we stood in the line we watched the grandmothers sitting together and I commented that you needed to appreciate the times that day with them because those times were rare. You told me you wished I wouldn’t talk like that. The reality of it was much harsher then we could ever have imagined. Only 1 week from that day you and your Nan Noseworthy were gone from us. After we ate you and I ran up to Fairweathers  and found a dress for you to wear to Allison’s wedding. It’s hanging in your closet now, tags still on.

Nan and I got back to your place after 11 pm. You were out getting pizza and at midnight I sat on the floor with my Mom and my baby girl at the coffee table  eating pizza. I watched as you and Nan Stanley played on the floor together like children. It was after 1 am and I had to keep on to get you two to give up and go to bed. You told me you never knew Nan was so funny. That night you slept with Nan for the first time since you were a little girl.Neither of you wanted to get up Sunday morning. You had called Gramp to cook you salt beef Sunday dinner and you came out with us to George’s Brook. You went to Harcourt and commented on how much you liked the smell in the house. Dad, Aunt Marilyn and Uncle Randy came back up with you and we all had dinner together. After dinner you went back to town with Uncle Randy. You said good-bye to Nan and Gramp for the last time.

June 30^th in the afternoon you called me at home wanting to come home to stay. A bad day at work. Something about a ladys nails not turning out right. I reminded you that you would be home that night in only a few hours. Nan met you at work and the two of you left at 6 pm to come home.  We sat outside with a fire in the fire pit that night. You went to see your friends. I remember being in bed and seeing the car lights on the ceiling when you pulled into the driveway. I told Dad we’d be hearing that infamous knock on our bedroom door in a couple of minutes. We did. You came in and lay in bed with us for a little chat. You let Nan Noseworthy sleep in your bed and you made up the futon bed in the spare room.

I thought you’d sleep in Friday morning but you didn’t. Seems you had an agenda for the day. You visited your friends from Northern Reflections, including Cheri who passed away only 6 weeks before. I made my potato salad for you for supper and Dad BBQ’d beer can chicken. After supper you finished visiting, making your last stops to see your friends children before bed. When you got home you and I had our chat we so enjoyed. We sat on your bed and talked about how hard you had worked, painting it the way you wanted it. Nan came and wanted to go to bed. An early rise in the morning. She tickled you to make you laugh and the two of you had fun a few minutes before you and I crawled into your bed. You were worried about me because I hadn’t been well. Worried that we weren’t telling you everything. We talked about how everything in life has a way of changing , nothing ever staying the same. How ironic we had that conversation at that time. If I’d known what the next day would bring, I’d have never left you that night to go to bed. Our last hug and kiss goodnight baby girl.

In the morning all of us except Michael was up and on the go. Dad and I had to work. I even ate breakfast so Nan wouldn’t grumble with me. Your shower was the shits you said. You were busy getting yourself ready and Nan grumbled because you only had juice. I see your beautiful face and that knowing smile in front of my eyes always. Our last hug. Last kiss. I remember closing my eyes and breathing in the smell of your hair. Then you were gone. It was lunch time, I was waiting for your call that didn’t come. Then…the words that repeat themselves over and over in my head…. ”There was an accident this morning, Johanna and Alice were both killed.”  That moment changed every last fibre of our beings. It changed the sound of music, birds singing. It changed the warmth of the sun and the painlessness of each breath. Our existence changed at that moment.

July 2, 2006

How Could

Dad and I sit and wonder,

How could this ever be

That already we’ve had your funeral

No wedding there's to be

At graduation time, we told you to slow down,

The most  important dress to find was your wedding gown

Not in a million years did we ever think

You’d be right , that your graduation gown was to be your one and only

“Princess Dress”, you see

Your bright smile and boisterous laugh

We long to see and hear

I’ll never forget that morning when I smelled your hair

Not a single thought I had that my last time it would be

Funny how through the years

Poetry you always wrote for me

Now here I am writing poetry

Through so many tears that I can’t see

A year ago already

The sting of pain is never ending

Dad and I just sit and wonder……..

How could this ever be ?