The Eugology

If you measure a life by love, then Jo Potter’s life was filled to overflowing. She walked through this world with a natural grace, an inherent kindness and a selflessness that inspired all who met her. It is a well worn cliché to talk of how much people are loved by others but, in Jo’s case, the living truth of how many people loved her, has been nearly overwhelming to us. She was even cherished and admired by both of her son-in-laws.     2 for 2 in the “Son-In-Law” Department? Now that’s amazing, but its typical Jo! Since her passing, her daughters, Ann and Joan, have heard from so many people, some of whom they thought Jo had barely known, about how they knew that they could always count on her, about how thankful they were for her friendship , and of how much their mother was loved. And as you hear story after story, you begin to realize that Jo was so loved because she was so loving. It was easy for her, it was genuine, and everyone who came into her presence knew it immediately. 

 

She was born in Brookline, the only child of Irish immigrants. Her life then, and at many times since, was far from easy.  But, from the start, her spirit was as indomitable, as her optimism was boundless. The challenges only served to reinforce her self sufficiency, her independence, and her commitment to hard work. These lessons informed her life, becoming interwoven into its very fabric and into everything that she did.  

 

After starting her family with her husband George, she returned to work at Dedham Medical Associates where her career spanned twenty-five years. She began as a part-time transcriptionist but quickly rose to positions in the administration, eventually serving as assistant administrator. She was a role model for so many women in the early 1960’s, when juggling family and a demanding career was still a novel idea.

 

 In characteristic style, Jo’s retirement had little to do with slowing down. She remained every bit as active as she had been during her career. She loved to travel and indulged her curiosity for life with many trips to interesting spots around the country and abroad. She loved the beach and got there as often as she could. A true New Englander she always got in the ocean, even in the frigid waters of Maine. And when her arthritis made walking quite difficult this past summer, she still managed to make a trip to the beach and to take a dip. Over the last 16 years, she devoted her life’s energy to Glad Rags and its mission of protecting the children of Massachusetts. She loved the community of women at Glad Rags and their friendship was a source of great joy to her.

 

Jo took particular delight in family activities, especially those involving her beloved grandchildren: Ali, Katie and Conor. Sharing these moments with them was worth any sacrifice, although, for Jo, it was never really a sacrifice. What she did for others was always to their credit, not hers. She attended every concert, swim meet, hockey game, lacrosse game and graduation that she could, even driving to Maine a couple of years ago despite our protests. Ali, who is studying in Italy and so could not be here with us today in person, although she’s very much here in spirit, has great memories of a family trip to Disney with her grandmother. Even though it was obvious that Jo was in pain from her arthritis, she was with them every step of the way and clearly seeing Disney World through the eyes of her then, 10 year old granddaughter.  Ali also remembers spending many New Years Eves with Grandma Jo, attending the fireworks in Westwood and then going back to her apartment for hot chocolate and popcorn.

 

If her family was the light of her life, then her Catholic faith was her rock. She served as a Eucharistic minister, ministering to those in need, until she was physically unable to do so. Her greatest pleasure was attending mass. In the last year, as her health failed, it was only through the gracious generosity of so many of you here today, that she was able to continue to attend. We want to thank you all from the bottom of our hearts, for this and for every other kindness you showed Jo over the past few years.   

But although Jo’s struggles with her health seemed to intensify, she was like the Phoenix, constantly rising out of the ashes after each setback, somehow, at times, seeming stronger for the ordeal. We all came to believe that maybe she was going to live forever. So, now that she’s gone, it’s a little hard to believe. Hard to imagine a world without Jo. But maybe, we’re missing the point, because Love does not die. Of all of the many unique expressions associated with Jo, the one that was most purely hers, that most captured her unique spirit, was “Big Love”. At the end of a visit or a phone call, she would always say “Big Love”.  And that love that she gave to each of us is ours forever: to light our smiles when we’re happy; to warm our hearts when we’re sad; and to share with each other, as we are doing here today. And this Love will not die with us, it will go on. So, Jo, thank you for all the laughter and the tears that you shared with us; and for the comforts given and the challenges met.  God’s speed to you on this next stage of your journey and, of course, “Big Love”. 

 

An Irish Funeral Prayer

 

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Everything remains as it was.
The old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no sorrow in your tone.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without  effort
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting,  when we meet again.

Really wish I could have been there but putting my own part into it really helped me feel like I sort of was there.

RIP<3