Today was the funeral for my sweet grandma, Juvella Johnson.
Her celebration of life was an unexpected family reunion of my dad, his siblings, most of my cousins and many of the great grandkids.
Grandma’s funeral mass was celebrated at St. Agatha Church on a beautiful sunny morning and just as had happened when Grandpa passed away in 2015, many people—friends from church, neighbors and then friends and family members of ours—joined us in sending her off to heaven.
The mass was celebrated by Father Anthony Lee. He did not know Grandma personally but he gave an incredibly warm and telling homily as if they had been long time friends.
After the funeral mass, Grandma was interned at Holy Cross Cemetery. She had a beautiful send off which culminated in the release of 20 doves.
Because of the legacy that my grandfather leaves, I am including the obituary Monique read and the tributes that were given by my father and me. Jordan shared his extemporaneously so I don’t have it to include.
* * * * *
Juvella R. Johnson
December 22, 1920 – August 26, 2019
Juvella Rita (Rachal) Johnson, 98, passed away peacefully in Las Vegas with her daughter, Renee, and granddaughter, Deana, at her bedside on August 26, 2019. She lived a long, healthy and rich life.
Juvella was born on December 22, 1920 in Montrose, Louisiana of the Natchitoches Parish. She came from a large family of nine siblings (four sisters and five brothers) who have all preceded her to the heavenly gates. She was a Louisianan through and through, not only living in Montrose, but also in Boyce, Alexandria, the Cane River area and in New Orleans where she attended school at Albert Wicker High School.
She was married to her life partner of 74 years, Charley Johnson, on February 22, 1941 at St. Margaret Church in Boyce, Louisiana. Charley preceded her in death in June of 2015.
Their first son, Melvin, was born in December 1941. Juvella was expecting their second child, Melford, when Charley was called to serve in World War II. Melford was born in 1943 and Juvella cared for her two young sons until her husband returned to Louisiana in October 1945.
Wanting greater opportunities for their children, the couple left Louisiana for Los Angeles, California. This journey symbolized Juvella’s unbridled faith in God. They arrived in Los Angeles with only a temporary place to stay and no gainful employment. This was just one of many examples of her steadfast faith. She always taught her family to “just put it in God’s hands” as He would always provide.
After settling in their new surroundings, their daughter, Renee, was born in 1946. In 1952, Juvella and Charley moved their family to the Cochran Avenue residence where they lived for over 60 years. It was that same year that they joined the St. Agatha’s family. They became active members and pillars in the parish. In 1957 their youngest son Michael was born.
Juvella, affectionately known as Bella to family and friends, also worked outside the home at Coast Coil for 25 years as an electronic technician and supervisor. She walked to and from home every day and never missed a day of work.
At home, she was a resourceful homemaker and a skilled seamstress. Juvella enjoyed her favorite hobby of tending her garden where she would grow the most beautiful tomatoes, okra, green beans and many other wonderful vegetables. Food always seemed to taste better when it came from her garden. She loved to cook her favorite Louisiana dishes. Many a Sunday was spent with a kitchen full of family and friends communing over one of her fine meals.
Juvella had a most loving nature and her home was a sanctuary. Anyone who crossed the threshold instantly felt her affection. She loved her entire family, Charley, her children, her grandchildren and her great grandchildren, praying for all of them until her last breath.
She is survived by her four children—Melvin, Melford, Renee and Michael, by eight grandchildren—Deana, Dean, Leslie, Suzanne, Monique, Laynie, Patrice and Brandon, and by 13 great grandchildren—Jonathan, Joseph, Jordan, Jeffrey, Walker, Mason, Camille, Frances, Sophia, Kendra, Jaiden, Bryson and Brayden.
Juvella leaves to mourn a host of family, friends, and friends of friends who may not have known her personally but who felt her loving spirit whenever her name was mentioned. She will be greatly missed by all who knew her.
* * * * *
Then my dad shared his tribute.
Good morning. First of all, I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming today to celebrate my Mother’s life. It means a lot to our family. I also want to thank Father Anthony, for graciously presiding over this Mass.
I am going to spend a few minutes, on behalf of my brothers and sister, sharing briefly what our Mother meant to each of us. We unanimously agreed that the one common quality throughout her entire life, which stood out in each of our lives, was her incredibly strong faith in God…and LOVE for God. Her religion was extremely important to her and it was her mother who established this foundation. Our mother passed these values on to each of us, in a very special way.
So, starting in birth order, my special relationship with my mother began shortly after I was born since my father had to leave to go overseas to serve our country. During this time, we bonded and became each other’s support during a difficult time in her life. Over the years, I began to see how special being the first born was and she would remind me of it when she would introduce me to her friends, saying, “This is Melvin, my first baby!” She also told me, “Raising you kids was the best years of my life!” She always had a positive message for me. “God bless you” was a common refrain and “Be careful out there.”
I am reminded of one story that demonstrates her strong faith and determination. It was important to her that we all attend Catholic schools but there was not a lot of extra money back then. So, our mother, who never learned how to drive—being scared of Los Angeles traffic—took it upon herself go out and find a job which was within walking distance from our home. Now, that has to be true “faith in action.” I will always cherish the strong spiritual connection I had with my Mother. One of her favorite prayers I admired was, “The lord is a mighty god who never sleeps.”
Next was my brother, Melford. Now I must tell you, Melford is like the Spiritual Director in our family today, based upon his deep faith and knowledge of the Church and this absolutely can be traced back to our mother’s influence. He reminded me recently of a story about our mother that made an impact on him. Shortly after his graduation from Loyola High School, he had an opportunity to attend Loyola Marymount University on a scholarship. So, he went to our mother and asked her for advice. She told him she thought he should accept the LMU offer. It was a great opportunity. But as it turned out, Melford decided not to go to LMU, and instead he chose Los Angeles City College as part of his plan to follow his passion of becoming a Marine fighter pilot.
Years later, being curious about her reaction to his decision, he asked her if she was disappointed or upset with him and our mother said, “No, of course not. That advice was not from me but from Jesus.” Her message was clear: try to make every decision based on what Jesus would do. Then you will never have any regrets.
Next is our one and only sister in the family, Renee. She has been a true blessing through and through to all of us and a pillar of love and support for our mother for many years. She has been through all the stages of aging with her, providing unselfish love, and sacrifices. Renee got see up close every day, for the past 20 plus years, the qualities of Mother’s strong faith and true love of God. She got to pray with her every day, take her to Mass and Holy Communion, and we do not know how many visits to doctors, hospitals, and emergency rooms. She was by her side from the beginning until her last breath.
I asked Renee one day, “How are you able to do all this?” She paused and said, “I get my strength from our mother.” She was the inspiration, the spiritual strength. Watching her every day, seeing her kindness toward everyone who approached her, and her gratitude for all the people who would help her. She had a Graceful Acceptance of God’s will through all the battles of aging. Our mother had the great ability to touch people. Renee saw Mother’s philosophy of life every day, which can be summarized in one of our Mother’s slogans—God always has your back.
And lastly, but not least, we come to brother Michael. He and I share a special connection with Mother. We were like bookends to her child-bearing career, with a 16 year span in between us. Mother had practically almost raised a family by the time he arrived. This is important, I believe, because, once again it shows how strong her faith was. She embraced this new opportunity as a blessing from God.
Michael recalls his many conversations with Mother in the kitchen after dinner, in the evenings when she would share her faith and provide encouragement. He sums it up her spirit this way. She was constantly remind him, “It’s going to be okay!” (his favorite) and “Don’t worry. God is going to take care of you.” Or, “Put it in God’s hands.” She was always positive and always trusting in God.
In closing, I would like to thank you again for all of your love and support and to our Mother, “God bless you. We love you and we miss you but you will always be in our hearts.”
Then I shared my thoughts:
* * * * *
Just after Grandma died, I was washing dishes at my kitchen sink. My mind wandered to the countless times I had seen Grandma do this over the course of my life. This simple act of sudsing plates and rinsing glasses evoked strong emotions and memories about Grandma and the legacy she leaves with all of us.
Growing up we spent a lot of weekends at Grandma and Grandpa’s house on Cochran Avenue. Grandma was always at the center of those gatherings. She reigned over them from the heart of the home, from her kitchen.
Grandma always greeted us warmly when we arrived. By warmly I mean she gave us a two-armed hug, a kiss right smack on the lips and a big smile. She would cup our hands in hers and ask how we were feeling. She was effusive with her affection.
She showed that great southern welcome to everyone who crossed the threshold of her home. Whether or not she had known you for all of your life or she was just meeting you for the first time, you got smothered in love. A friend of ours was a friend of hers. In fact, once you were in the family, you were in for good. The prefixes of “former” or “ex” mattered little to her. In-laws, neighbors, other grandparents, boyfriends, girlfriends, they all found their way to her heart. She showed us that there was always room for one more around the table. Status did not matter nor did color or creed. She included everyone and for that reason it was hard to tell sometimes who the real relatives were and who were the adopted ones.
Our Sunday visits generally centered around a meal and they always felt like a party. Grandma was an excellent cook and we all looked forward to what was prepared. Food and drink were plentiful and the atmosphere was festive! I’m sure we can all recall a favorite dish of hers, whether it was the gumbo, her southern greens, a giant skillet of fried chicken, the bowls of potato salad and beans and let’s not forget the BBQ ribs. She knew we had favorites and those dishes, like the treasured sweet potatoes with caramelized marshmallows on top, would appear on the sidebar with a little nudge that she had made them just for us.
Now as an adult myself, I know that hosting family gatherings like that was no small job. They involved cleaning, planning, shopping and preparing a lot of food. No matter the size of the gathering, I never recall her complaining about the work. On the contrary, I believe these gatherings fueled her and fed her in a way that no physical meal could. She, like our dear Grandpa, thrived on the energy of a house pulsing with family and friends, their stories, energy and laughter. As time went on, and as Grandma slowed down and let the younger generations step up, she too took a place around the table in a seat of honor. She would often sit there, saying little but absorbing all the energy and savoring it.
By her example, Grandma taught us to serve others. Times being what they were, she catered to our grandfather, but it was just as natural to hear her say, “Let me fix you a plate.” She always made sure everyone else’s needs were met before she finally sat down to nibble on a few bites of whatever was left. And then after everyone had been served, she was generally the first one out of her chair to start cleaning up.
During those large family gatherings, we dirtied a lot of dishes. I’m sure we occasionally used paper goods but one of my most vivid memories is looking at my sweet grandmother’s back as she washed plates and rinsed glasses, passing the clean ones to whomever volunteered to dry. She never complained about the piles of dishes and rarely let anyone step in to give her a break from the task. This was her language of love.
According the stories I’ve heard from my dad, Melford, Renee and Michael, Grandma ran a tight ship when they were growing up. Though she might have occasionally corrected us, that was not her primary role with us. We all have distinct tender memories with her, like how she taught us how to sew an apron or pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden or how whenever she made popcorn on the stove the old fashioned way, she would say it popped faster if you laughed out loud as you made it. She always made us feel unconditionally loved and special.
Perhaps, Grandma’s greatest legacy, though, is her unyielding faith. She was a believer through and through. Whether it be the crucifix she wore around her neck, the open Bible on the coffee table or the sound of Mother Angelica praying the rosary on the television, the signs of her faith were abundant. She strongly believed that God would handle everything if we just gave it to Him. When one of us was struggling with a challenge, she would remind us, “Pray, Baby. God will take care of it. Pray, baby, and give it up to God.”
Her prayers, though, were not limited to supplication. Rather, I believe she was in constant dialogue with God, thanking him and praising him too. If she said it once, she said it a thousand times: “He is a mighty God and He does not sleep.” Her words were limited at the very end but those that she did speak were sweet invocations of prayer and utterances of blessings upon others.
Indeed, our grandma was a pillar of hospitality, love, service and faith. No matter where her physical body lies, she will live on our hearts. With each hug that we share today, we exchange a little bit of her love just as she would have us to do.
* * * * *
No Comments