Grandma-In-Law and Love (January 13, 2006)

Jess, Nola, David, Kelly, Thomas and Helen in backyard of Michael Bradley's house in Pacifica (late 1970s)

Easter Sunday at the Osborne home in Irvine, CA (1973) Back row: Jess, Marilyn O., David, Nola, Katie. Front row: William, John, Anne, Kelly, Paul, Thomas.

Jess with Kelly and William (April 1969)

Jess and 6-month old William (1967)

     Her son called her Jess. Her grandson, my husband, called her Goidy-Goi. Her great-grandchildren called her Go-Go and Gee-Gee.  I called her Fabulous! 
 

     Jessie Belle Lemon was born at home on the farm in Badoura, Minnesota in 1889 to Thena and James.  She was number six of what she always called A Dozen Little Lemons.   Her father, James Riley Lemon, was the son of Napoleon Bonaparte Lemon and Lucrecia Allen.  Her mother, Thena Susan Grant, was the daughter of James Grant and Maria M. Shook.  One of the Shook relatives, Matthew Figi, traced the family genealogy in a book called I Shook the Family Tree (1994). 

     Jess loved her childhood.  Needless to say, they were very poor; but through Jess’s eyes, they were a happy, loving family.  She spent hours telling us stories about the Lemon family life.  Only two of her brothers died before their 21st birthday.  Most of her brothers and sisters lived into their late 80s and 90s.  Jess’s mom lived to 94 and so did Jess.  Once we had the opportunity to visit the Lemon Cemetery in Badoura, Minnesota. We were surprised to discover that some of Jess’s grandparent’s generation also lived into their 90s, when most of their contemporaries were dying in their thirties and forties.

     Jess herself was diagnosed with tuberculosis when she was seventeen. There was no treatment in those days, just rest.  She recovered, but after she married William (Bill) Haggerty and had her son, Billie, the TB returned.  When her baby was 18 months old, she was sent to a sanitarium to recover.  There still were no medications to treat the condition, just internal strength and time.  She was released after about six months, but was told by her doctors that she would not live beyond 30.  She showed them otherwise!

     Married life was not easy. Old Bill, her husband, took her away from her beloved family in Minnesota and brought her to Los Angeles in 1924. She put all her belongings in storage and they headed West for what Bill told her was a vacation. The vacation lasted 60 years. She never was able to retrieve her belongings from storage, and she never forgave him for bringing her to California. She did make many trips home to visit her family but never again lived in Minnesota. Jess always said it was colder in California than it was in Minnesota; she was always cold when she was in the shade. I think it was her family that gave her warmth, not the weather.

     Old Bill had died by the time I first met Jess.  And, as Jess always said, her life began at 70.  She had worked hard all her married life; with the passing of Bill, her fun really began. She had very little money, but she knew how to live life to its fullest. She had an income of about $640 a month.  Her rent was $500 a month.  But on $140 a month, she took care of her household expenses and traveled with the seniors around the world.  Her pennies went a lot farther than most people’s twenty-dollar bills.

She referred to herself as a seasoned citizen, not a senior citizen. She was five feet, eight inches tall and model thin.  She looked fabulous in anything she put on.  She loved brightly colored velour pants suits and gold-jeweled flats. She had beautiful curly hair, which she loved, and she always wore jeweled earrings.  She bought all her clothes at thrift stores, and she knew how to shop. She could climb out of bed and be ready to go anywhere in about five minutes, looking like a million dollars.

     Jess was living in Redondo Beach, California when our first child was born in February 1965. I was in my last year of nursing school, and David and I lived in a one-bedroom apartment in San Francisco. When we called Jess to tell her of Kelly’s arrival, she volunteered to come help. At first I was apprehensive; she was then 76 years old and it was fifty years since she had a baby at home. She was not in the least apprehensive; she slept on the living room couch and helped with Kelly until I graduated in June. From the moment she arrived she was right at home, and you would have sworn she had taken care of babies every day of her life.

     In 1979, while still living alone in Redondo Beach, Jess was diagnosed with liver and widespread abdominal cancer.  After we had begged her for years to come live with us, she finally agreed.  She settled right in with our family of six.  She loved all of our children, aged six to fourteen, and they all adored her.   

     When one of our good friends met Jess for the first time, she found her sitting in the family room with her legs flung over the arm of the chair. She said, “She’s just like a wonderful teenager.”  Jess used to say every time she looked in a mirror, “Who is that old hag?” In her mind she was never older than 24. When Jess was ninety-two years young, we invited the neighbor’s 78-year old mother over for morning coffee.  The woman was wearing a conservative dress and sensible shoes.  Jess said, “It’s time for you to get rid of these old lady clothes and get yourself a pair of pants, some flats and start living!”

Jess was our own Auntie Mame; she was fabulous!