My Friend Jean

During this time of the year, I always remember with great fondness my friend Jean. She passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly on the day after Thanksgiving in 2001. Not long ago I found this article, written that year. Her daughter had asked for contributions for a memory book about her mom.
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Jean was very dear to me. Many times my phone would ring and it would be Jean on the other line: "Ann, what do you think we should do about. . ." or "Ann, do you think this would be a good idea?" Or, I would call Jean and Jim's house, hear her answer "Trimble residence," and reply teasingly, "Hello, Trimble residence, is Jean there?"

Jean personified the Bible verse, "She hath done what she could." Many things were elaborated at her funeral, but there are many more that I know of, and many more beyond that. I remember when a girl from the mission field visited Oakwood, separated from her family and short of funds. The next week Jean was arranging to get her the things she needed and inviting her to come to their home for the weekend. Jean filed the missions letters diligently, after reading them carefully and catching things that needed to be taken care of. She saw to it that a back got built on missions closet shelves when things were falling off. The list of her good deeds goes on and on.

Just a few weeks before her death, Jim and Jean went on an extended tour of the western U.S., and we were the beneficiaries of postcards from along their route. When they returned, they brought beautiful Mt. Rushmore T-shirts for our children. When Mary Lee got the Terrific Kid award at school, she received $5 in the mail and a congratulatory note from "Grandpa Jim and Grandma Jean." Always, the children's birthdays were remembered. They kept our children in their home on a number of occasions. She just never missed an opportunity to be an encouragement to our family and to me. I know that was the case with many others, too.

Our friendship superseded the years that separated us. Each Sunday service, during the welcome time, Jean would lean over the pew, give me a hug, and say "I love you, Ann." I'd return the hug and tell her I loved her, too. Jean was someone I could turn to for advice in several areas of my life. I miss her terribly since she has gone home to be with the Lord. When I see her again on the other side, I will visit her, this time in her golden "Trimble residence," and I am eager for that day.