Well, I left a small novel and it didn't take. Maybe this one will work...but I am emotionally exausted now that I wrote all my feelings and they vanished. (Will this one work?)

In short Mamaw Jean was the sweetest soul I ever knew. She directly and indirectly was responsible for my love of old Country music and Country Gospel. And I play guitar because she taught my Mom guitar.

There is so much more to say that was just said and sent.... I will write more in other places about Mamaw Jean. I love her infinitely. And my sorrow runs deep. But I know I will see her again, because she is alive and well in a different place.. I know she loves me, and I know she knows how much I love her. 

I love and miss you, Mamaw. "Bunchens and bunches and more'n that too."

"Where was Moses when the lights went out? (In the cellar eatin' saurkraut.)"

My heart is full.... And yet I am at a loss of words. First of all, I wish I had been there for Mamaw Jean's funeral. 

As most of you know, I left Southern Indiana a age seven or so; but the things that a small child remembers can be a bit surprising, if not curious.

In short, whatever guitar-playing skills I possess can be both directly and indirectly attributed to Mamaw Jean.
 Lemme explain: She taught my Mom guitar, and my Mom taught me (that's the indirect part.) But it was Mamaw's record collection which has stayed with me in my heart and mind for a lifetime. I love old Country music and Country Gospel like I love the colors of the leaves in autumn...or the smell of the pages within an old book.

 Mamaw Jean owned a red and white checkerboard record player that I was given full access to when I was about five. Me, Mamaw and Mom would very often sit around and listen to the likes of Kitty Wells, Mother Maybell Roger Miller, Johnny Cash, or any one of the "The Three Hanks" (Snow, Thompson, and Williams.)
Anyway, music is therapy to me. I know most of you will understand what I mean. Mamaw gave me much my "Therapy Collection." (So did my Mom,Aunt Suzie, Dale, Suzanne, and Debbie, by the way.) But it was Mamaw that gave me the old Country...my "desert island music."

Sometimes, Mamaw or Mom would get the guitar out, and the three of us would sing the really old songs like "Red River Valley," or "Ridin' Old Paint," or "Brightly Beams Our Father's Mercy." That's how I learned to sing. Those times were magical, magical times. Me, my Mom, and my Mamaw....

Mamaw Jean was just the sweetest soul. She couldn't help but be both cute and sweet. But more importantly, she knew how to listen to a person as if they were the only person in the world. I could tell her anything that was troubling me and she knew how to recieve my sorrow and concern. Then she knew just the right amount of silence the next moment required. Finally, she'd rescue the situation with style, lieky reciting one of her two-dozen or so  "Mamawisms",like:
 "Where was Moses when the lights went out? (In the cellar eatin' sourkraut.)"

I like to think of her in the present tense,though, because I know I will see her again one day. I know the great love she has for me (and my Mom)...and I know that she knows how much I love her.

And I do. ("Bunches and bunches, and more'en that too.") And I deeply miss her. I will think of her daily, as I always have...in the music I hear, and in other ways.

But I cannot deny that, for now, her music will be sadder...heavier. Perhaps sweeter, too. And deeper. Maybe clearer. 

Thank you, Mamaw.

I love you. I miss you.

I am grateful to have known Jean and for the friendship she offered to me and my father and mother. I knew her as a most gracious, friendly and loving person. I will treasure her memory for her offer to come and help my mother when she was so very ill in 1975. My mother passed the day before she was to come to our home. I send my love and heartfelt sympathy to all who also loved her. Our loss and sadness is lessened, I believe, by the joy that was in Paradise, and that is there now, when her Lord welcomed her home, for He had prepared a special place of honor just for her.

 My deepest and sincere sympathy for the loss of your dear loved one. Please find peace and comfort in Psalms 65:2. Again my deepest sympathy.

OBITUARY

Jean Capitola Brown

6 May, 1920 – 25 May, 2014

Kraft Funeral Service & Kraft-Graceland Memorial Park

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