Joan

Today I attended your memorial service and it was beautiful. I have always admired you for being a remarkable woman, daughter of a Heavenly Father, wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, educator, scientist, feminist, social activist, scholar and woman of faith. Your influence has extended into the lives of tens of thousands of people. Thank you for all the thought-provoking lessons, heartfelt smiles, and hugs. Love, emily


A while back I dropped off some food at my church for a luncheon following a memorial service. I had the opportunity of chatting with a friend who had attended the services and she said something to the effect of, "I like coming to these because they inspire me to do better." My initial reaction was that she was crazy because confession: I sincerely dislike attending funerals. Once again, I was a coward in that I tried looking for a way out of this one. I thought I had it when I found out our indoor soccer team would start playing Saturday mornings this week. As it turned out, we had a BYE week. The funeral was back on my schedule. Then someone mentioned practicing instead. Oh good, off the hook. But then no one confirmed a time and place. I think the universe was trying to send me a message...

Funeral it was. Except this time, I tried to see it as something I could do to honor Joan's memory and as a cathartic experience for my soul rather than a rehashing of sorrow and potential cleansing of my tear ducts. To my surprise I really didn't cry too much. I actually felt a lot of peace and was really able to reflect on the purpose of life. A few things were brought to the forefront of my mind:

Life is short, have a sense of humor...


Mourning is one of the deepest expressions of pure love. It is a natural response in complete accord with divine commandment: “Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die.” (Doctrine and Covenants 42:45) Moreover, we can’t fully appreciate joyful reunions later without tearful separations now. The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life. Russell M. Nelson

Time is cyclical, not linear; an idea expressed in this poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

Science and religion can co-exist. Joan studied primates and evolution while she was a professor at SDSU. She used to say that the study of science is the study of God's handiwork. The more they learn about each other, the more compatible they will become. As a child of a physicist of sorts, I was raised with this thought-process. There is no need to reject knowledge because it does not answer all your questions. Just like there is no need to reject religion for the same reason. We are taught that "truth is knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come" and that "the Spirit of truth is of God" (Doctrine and Covenants 93: 24&26)

And finally, it doesn't really matter how you believe our friend lives on. A scholar might believe she exists in a metaphysical realm. A naturalist might believe she exists in nature and that she is all around us. A theologian might believe that her spirit lives in paradise waiting to be reunited with her body perfected, also referred to as a resurrection to eternal life. But where she exists for everyone, regardless of our spiritual beliefs, is in our own minds, through our memories and the experiences we shared with her.



Joan, you will be greatly missed.