I know there's not a single person who knew my grandmother that wasn't moved by her. Sweet and kind to everyone, yet sassy, frank and knowing if you were close with her, Grandma Jeannette saw so much in her life and left a positive mark on so many people, including me and my family.

I can still see and smell her apartments in Woodside and Jackson Heights, both anchored by her kitchen and its bright red table and chairs where I sat as a child and as an adult being fed well and fed often. I learned about life and cooking there and also from walking around her neighborhood with her. Selfishly I always just thought of her as my grandma, seeing her almost exclusively through that lens. Yet looking back on our neighborhood strolls I'm reminded of all the relationships she had with neighbors and shop owners. She had a full life beyond and separate from our family. I know that's obvious, but I think it's also so often taken for granted. Yet despite that other full life, she was the matriarch of our family, our cornerstone.

I'm awed how she raised five kids in a one-bedroom apartment. I still wonder how her diminutive coffee table could expand to seat an entire extended family. I wonder too how she had time to paint and distribute hundreds of paintings and still find time for her soap operas, copious reading and socializing. 

I have a picture of Grandma Jeannette and me as a little baby hanging out in my parent's backyard in Hempstead. It's summer time, she's sitting in a lawn chair, in a bathing suit, sporting her perm and I'm in a diaper on the lawn. We both look really happy and natural. That picture takes me forward thirty years to my wedding in Portland, OR that she flew out to despite being 85 and in a wheelchair. I remember her grabbing my goatee, which she loathed, and laughing at me while telling me how ridiculous she thought it was. She also laughed like a little girl when the groomsmen whisked her and her chair up the steps to the church. Looking at my daughters as I write this, I hope to be as present and natural in their children's lives as Jeannette was in mine. 

I will miss her dearly but I'm not sad. Grandma Jeannette lived a full and long life. We should all be so lucky  and we are for having known her.

To all her children -- your mother was truly such a lady, always showing consideration to others, never wanting to impose -- even to the end with her aides at Ozanam.  They all spoke of her kindness.  She certainly knew how to turn lemons into lemonade -- life did not deal her the best of hands, but she worked hard to make things better for all of you.  She was also creative with her cooking, baking, crocheting, Christmas ornaments and artwork.  All of you were fortunate to have received at least one of her afghans and one or more of her paintings and will have them to remember her by.

Not many people can say they had over thirty years getting to know their grandmother but for myself , Mark, Tommy, Michael, Matthew, Liza, and Patrick, we were fortunate enough to have the time with this remarkable woman. When I think of the words to describe my grandma, there are just so many different ones to choose from but the word that sticks out the most to me is strong, and that she was for 96 years. Through her stories about her time in Canada as a young girl, tales of training to be a nurse, and doing her very best to raise five children basically on her own, Jeanette was the epitome of strong. 

As a kid I always enjoyed the special moments I had with my grandma. I never really enjoyed sleeping away from home and my parents received countless phone calls from friends saying I wanted to be picked up but when I was with grandma she made it as close to home as possible. She would cut me up the best apples during each visit, would allow me to make my plain noodles with cheese, and would finish off the night with a bowl of ice cream. I never felt the urge to be picked up from grandma's house; I felt safe and as if I was at home with grandma. 

Over the past several years, Grandma and I shared a special relationship. She took care of me when my mom was sick, braided my hair at night like she did when I was a little girl during her stay with us, attempted to teach me how to paint, and was a shoulder to cry on through boy troubles. Following her stroke I spent many days sitting with grandma at Oznam. Some days we would sit and chat about her life and the past. Her mind was filled with such amazing stories and I always wanted to know more. Other days I would bring my book bag and and just sit and study while she read. Even though we didn't chat much on those study days she would always tell me how nice it was just to have me there. That always brought a smile to my face but what made my heart smile the most during my time with grandma was her telling me how strong I was. In these last few weeks my grandma told me multiple times how strong I was and how proud she was of me for following my dreams and racking up all those student loans. When I asked her why her response is something I will keep with me forever. She said "I will never have to worry about you because you are the strong one and because of your education you will never have to depend on anyone but yourself". Her words made it all worth it.

Mom, Aunt Jackie, Uncle Tom, Uncle Rich, and Uncle Mike, Although I am not there with you all, today lets salute one of the strongest women I have ever met. Thanks for the memories Grandma. You will always be in my heart.

OBITUARY

Jeannette B. Nettleton

9 November, 1918 – 1 July, 2015

Frederick Funeral Home

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