Remembering a Great Lady

My husband and I recently learned of the death of a dear friend. Though she was his friend first, I came to care for her deeply as well. As we talked about her, I learned that many of the qualities I love most about him were learned from her. So in tribute to her, here is his remembrance of Jean Gibbs:

Jean Gibbs was the first person, other than an aunt, who really showed me what relationships are all about.

I met Jean through her daughter Hilarie when I was in high school, and I soon learned that Jean Gibbs knew more about being a teenage boy than I did. I would perch on a stool in her kitchen and watch the family interact. As they came and went, they would talk to me—especially Jean, who would impart her words of wisdom in her gentle, knowing way as she prepared cranberries in more ways than I ever imagined.

I never felt like just another kid passing through. Years later, I would take my wife to meet the Gibbs family and she, too, was welcomed like a member of the family.

Jean and Phip taught me by example how to love each other, and Jean gave me some rules about what women need. I needed to make my family better than what I had come from, and Jean helped me to do that. She taught me:

• “It’s nice to have a man around the house.” By this she meant that little things like drippy faucets are not so little to the woman who has to listen to it, and even though the husband is tired when he comes in, it is important to fix those “little” things.

• “I love it when we think alike.” I learned that, if we weren’t thinking alike, things would go easier if I adjusted my thinking to hers.

• “It’s easier to hold onto someone you love if you hold loosely, not with a tight rein.” Was she talking about sheep, horses, or people? She explained that people need their personal space and it’s important to give them time and space to work out their differences.

From about the seventh grade, my family never ate together. There were eventually 10 kids, and there was no room in our house for everyone to gather at the table. I didn’t realize that families did that until I saw at the Gibbs’ house how important they made it to sit down together for dinner. Because of them, I made a point for our family to eat together when our children were growing up.

I learned from Jean and Phip to keep a sense of humor about life. When Hilarie and I were dating, I would often spend the weekend, sleeping on the couch since they lived more than an hour from my house. I remember one night after Jean and Phip went to bed, the two of us were sitting on the couch kissing. After a short while, we heard one shoe or boot hit the floor above us—hard. We waited for the other shoe to drop, then burst out laughing when it didn’t. We knew it was time to say good-night.

My wife and I have adopted similar humor. Jean used to say the first one to mention divorce would have to take the kids. Our first significant purchase was a brass bed, and we always said that the one to mention divorce first gets the kids and forfeits the brass bed!

Many of the things I have done and do to take care of my family are because of Jean’s lessons—teaching my daughter to dance, spending time in Boy Scout activities with my son, making sure my wife always drives the “good” car.

Jean made sure their house was a safe place for me when I needed someplace safe. When I did a dumb thing and they reprimanded me, I knew it must have been really dumb if Jean thought it was, so I never did it again. That probably kept me out of a lot of trouble later in life.

After I married, we visited the Gibbses several times. On one visit, Jean told my wife that she knew that Hilarie and I were too much alike, and that she was glad to see us happy and not fighting all the time. She was happy that I had found peace and happiness, and that meant a lot to me.

We saved every Christmas letter she wrote us, and out of all the Christmas letters we received each year, I cherished hers the most. It was a loss when she was no longer able to write her letters, but she was often in our thoughts.

The world is a lonelier place knowing that Jean Gibbs is no longer in it. But I’ll always remember that she could pitch hay with the best of ‘em.