A Journey of Two Moons

Native American Proverb: (in Angela Hospice booklet: Transitions)

When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced…
When you die the world cries and you rejoice.

JOANNE was born Mary Joanne Mecklenborg, to Warde and Ann (Jarosz), February 7, 1940, in Dearborn, Michigan. The Mecklenborgs lived in one of the early “Frishkorn” row houses near Plymouth and Evergreen Roads in Detroit, Michigan. She attended Horace Mann Elementary and Cody High Schools.

She was married to Donald Sundstrom whose family was from Searchmont, Ontario, father of Vera Ann and Linnea. She then married John Blake who originated from Aylmer, Ontario, father of Sandy. Later, Joanne was married to Phil Peters, formerly of Dover, England.

Joanne has had a full living experience in the places she has lived through time: born in Dearborn, she has lived in Taylor, Plymouth, Detroit, Inkster and Farmington Hills in Michigan, as well as Ringgold, Georgia and Aylmer and London, Ontario. She worked at F. W. Woolworth’s at the lunch counter, J&J Roadside Restaurant (in Aylmer, which she owned with husband John), Consumers Drug Store, Carpet Center, New York Carpet World (in Southfield and Ringgold), and most recently MAP Flooring.

She was a whiz at crossword puzzles, spending many hours solving some of the toughest of the New York Times. She, her husband John, and girls would gather around many a jigsaw puzzle in their Aylmer home. Many have received gifts of her crocheting and cross-stitch work. In her younger days, many a car model was put together with patient, nimble fingers.

She loved animals of all kinds (even her own “monkeys” – her daughters), having a beloved Spaniel, “Rusty” to keep her company while in Georgia. She enjoyed people of different cultures and backgrounds and counted folks from many walks of life as dear friends.

On the other hand… she did not like sports!

Her days at Angela Hospice, her final home (in Livonia, Michigan), were spent harassing the staff – they never knew when she was joking and when she was having “one of her moments.” Her last Friday, she enjoyed some mouthfuls of ice cream (the Hospice has ice cream socials on Friday night), making “surprise” faces as the coolness hit her tongue. We left her in bed making “vrooming” sounds, racing someone, somewhere… three days later, Jesus was greeting her to her heavenly home. Is there any wonder that she seemed so in peace as she left this place?

May the Lord bless you richly in your memories of Joanne!

When We Think of You
We weep then laugh.
We hug then kiss.
BUT
No hug or kiss makes up for yours.
I love you so much and will miss you a lot.
You will never be forgotten.

Love, Samantha Lynn Youskow

Dear Granny,
There is one thing I want to say
and that is you will always be in my heart.

Love, Cheyenne Nicole Youskow

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:38-39 (NIV)

Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.

1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

Say not in grief “he is no more” but live in thankfulness that he was.

Hebrew Proverb

I am standing on the sea shore,
A ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her
Till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says:
“She is gone.”
Gone! Where?
Gone from my sight that is all.
She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her
And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “She is gone”,
There are others who are watching her coming,
and other voices take up a glad shout:
“There she comes.”
- and that is dying. A horizon and just the limit of our sight.
Lift us up, oh Lord, that we may see further.

Bishop Brent 1862-1926 (as previously read at Vera Sundstrom’s memorial service in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, 1989)