In Honor of Jean

I am often drawn to write about people who have died, as I try to capture what it was about that that we all need to remember. I think that I would like to write eulogies except that I don't really want to do any research or any actual work, and that's what a real eulogy requires. That's what the clergy is trained and equipped to do so well.

For those who don't pay super close attention but who read this blog from time to time, you may not notice that I try hard not to use whole names (unless the person has died and then their name is fair game). I don't want to drag someone else into the internet through my blog without express permission.  Of course, if anyone wanted to put all the pieces together it would be simple, but I don't want it to be incredibly easy from a google perspective.

With that preamble, I am going to write about our friend Jean who is currently in the active process of dying. She is not dead yet and she is a loyal reader of mine, so this is a love letter to a living person.

Jean found our farm a long time before we really noticed that she had found us. She has memories that go all the way back to the 1970s with her tiny kids, coming to the stand or picking fruit next door at the Moutoux Orchard.  Our roadside stand has been in its current location with its two story building for nearly 50 years and Jean has been a regular shopper for 40 of those years.

Those who know her better than I do will affirm that Jean has very high standards, can be quite demanding about quality, and is also incredibly loyal. She is never shy about telling us if something was not right but she is always, always ready to offer praise and gratitude for things that are good. It is a winning combination in any part of life.  Jean has built a community of grateful friends and clients with this strongly principled approach.

At our farm, the customer is not always right. I remember clearly when my sister and I were in middle elementary school and we were left to sell tomatoes by the side of Baron Cameron Avenue. Those were long and boring afternoons. We just had a table and some tomatoes, possibly some sweet corn. I don't think we even had an umbrella. One time a lady told us that she could get tomatoes cheaper at the Safeway and we seriously told her that she should do that, if that's what she wanted. She was offended and upset and she went and told our mother about it. Our mother backed us up. Of course she did. How in the world would we have been bold enough to tell someone to go to the Safeway, as 8 and 10 year olds, unless that had been modeled for us?

Anyway, that story is meant to illustrate the kind of shopping environment Jean has been braving for these 40 years. We do not coddle our customers. However, a few years ago we did notice just how often Jean shops.  She finds us at the Reston Farmers Market (she is generally the first one there at the opening bell), she comes to the stand regularly and she has been a dedicated CSA customer since the beginning.  Her customer number is 57, which means she has been a member for the whole 20 years. To acknowledge her dedication, we concocted a 20% off Discount Card that can be used at any of our locations.  She is the only person who has one, at this time.  It is one of her most prized possessions. She told me, partly joking but maybe not completely, that if she were going to be buried instead of cremated, she would want to be buried with that card.

She is a passionate and talented cook, or she was until she got too weary and ill.  Every time we saw her in the CSA room she would describe her latest success with vegetables. It sounds like they ate extremely well at her house.

I was not closely connected to Jean until she got sick and needed to go to Hopkins for a stem cell transplant. I knew something about that experience because we had been through that already and I could tell her some of what she could expect. I think I sent her the link to my very long and detailed blog about Jon's days at Hopkins. Then when she was there for all those months I sent her more to read from my backstock of stories and eventually I think she might have read everything I ever stashed on the computer.  Then I just started writing her farm reports since she was still stuck inside. She appreciated all of it. There is nothing like an avid reader to keep a person writing.  For the last few months, since Jean found out that she would be dying soon, I have written with her in my mind more than anyone else.

All of this is to say that I live on the very edge of Jean's world, and I appreciate her so deeply. She is the absolute cream of the crop when it comes to being a customer of ours, she is generous from the depths of her heart, she is so incredibly smart and so thoughtful, she cares so much about people, she has so much energy for excellence, and we will miss her so very much.

I understand how inadequate these words are. I have not even talked about the way she is managing her death, but that is for another time. I think about her all the time, and we write to each other often, and I will miss her more than I even know right now. I will miss having her as a penpal as much as anything, I think.

With so much love and appreciation, I wish you some of the best weeks of your life, in whatever way you can make that happen, Jean.  We will remember you always, and your name will be a permanent fixture on our farm as we establish a memorial CSA share.