Joan Carroll Taylor

So it began in August, my birthday month (aka four+ birthday weeks), of 1947. Ask anyone, I can stretch a birthday to the limit. Anyway, I was born a New Yorker. This little spitfire was welcomed at home to Helen and Jerry in Sullivan County, NY.
My parents were young. Too young probably to know what in the heck to do with a baby.
Youthful love. Sigh...I was lucky and grateful to have my maternal grandparents and the many years spent growing up on their farm in the Catskill Mountains. There was a cow named "Clover" because she had a spot that looked as such. There were many animals there I loved. I suppose I became a dog lover right from the get go. It was a treasured time running and laughing with my cousins in the dancing shadows of those northeast mountains. The crisp breezes..you know the kind...the zestful, spirited air that you could breathe in deep. I remember fishing with my grandfather. And blueberry picking with my grandmother. I learned to love tools and how they looked. My granddad was a carpenter too. He let me wear his tool belt sometimes.
Once my young parents grew up a bit more and established themselves, they took me to FL when I was about 8 but I never fully got over leaving those mountains. I told my daughter I wanted to go back there again. Especially in the fall. I love the vibrant colors of autumn--so much so I decided I'd take my exit on a beautiful fall day-- this past Sunday in the early hours of the 23rd of October. Don't worry. I left in my sleep. I am ok.
My daughter told me she would take me back to those mountains. I am happy to be going. I am especially glad that she is taking me.
I think all and all, I had a pretty good life. The last bit of it wasn't spectacular I admit and covid really ruined a long space of time but I lived quite a bit over my seven decades. I had many friends, many laughs, many travels and even a few secrets. I had only one child. And she's like me in a lot of ways-- some good, some bad I'm afraid. But I was always proud of her and always loved her. She's struggling right now with me gone but she'll get through it. She's also tough like me.
I married my high school sweetheart, John, right after we each graduated from college. He is a good man. Not perfect but kind and very smart and dependable. We were married over 30 years. He annoyingly watched a lot of sports TV but I paid him back with every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (LOL).
We divorced years ago but truly had grown apart for an even longer time. That happens sometimes with young love. You're immature and then you grow up together...and as happens on occasion, you grow in different directions. My daughter found love letters from me to John, and from John to me. Even though it was long ago, there was real love there. I made some mistakes in my life but I hope those who loved me also forgive me.
I spent my professional life in public education in SC like John did. I was proud to get my Masters in Education. I began my career in teaching and then later moved to guidance counseling. My favorite part of guidance was writing college recommendation letters. I was good at it. My daughter told me I probably had a lot to do with many college acceptances for my students. I think that's pretty cool. That's impactful life stuff right there. I retired after 30 years as a Director of Guidance. I was proud of that title.
I had always enjoyed taking pictures, and in retirement, I focused heavily on it. I was a Nikon user for those in the know. ;) I got involved in camera groups in Charlotte and traveled all over working and playing in nature photography. My daughter has troves and troves of my albums and slides. She's hung some of my prints in her home-- and I'm just saying there's lots more wall space there if she gets to missing me too much.
At age 70, I became a grandmother to twins! They are precious. Beautiful and intelligent and they are already funny which makes me very happy and very proud. I hope they remember me. But thank goodness, I passed on my love of pictures to my daughter. She took many photos of me with my grandchildren even though we had just 4 years together... and two of those years were partially through window visits thanks to covid. But last year, she recorded my voice reading a book I bought for them when they were just babies. They can still hear and see me but I mostly hope they can feel my love for them. They can now carry me in their hearts.
I thought I'd share some things about me to remind you of who I was and what I loved...
I was short. Sigh. But I had beautiful hair.
I was smart.
I was funny. Like hilarious. Dark potty humor was my favorite. Puns, quick comments, wicked jokes. All the funnies. It lives on in my daughter. She better make sure my grand twins keep the laughs going... or she should prepare for rattling shutters or floating candles or something---not sure how the ghosting thing works yet. TBD.
I was pretty.
I made outstanding corn pudding and macaroni with cheese. Heather can make the mac n cheese but not the corn pudding. Maybe her daughters will be better at it.
I had no less than 1,000 cookbooks. I also ate out most of the time. I liked irony.
I threw pretty great birthday parties for my daughter when she was a kid.
I loved Christmas. I dragged my daughter through ALL the Christmas stores year round. "Christmas in July?" Nah, more Like "Christmas in Joan!"
I would give her new pjs that she'd open on every Christmas Eve. She continues this tradition with my granddaughters. Also, if "A Christmas Carol" was on TV, I was probably watching it. I loved to watch with a glass of egg nog.
Oh! John and I started this Christmas thing where we'd write funny clues on labels to guess what was in the stocking present. Heather picked up on it and eventually we all did it. Belly laughs from ridiculous gift labeling that stretched the imagination on the contents. It was our little family thing and it was fun/ny.
I digress.
I could destroy you at Scrabble. I was also excellent at Wheel of Fortune.
I hated green beans. And sports TV. Barf.
I had an awful sense of direction with an extra dose of impatience. (Heather inherited this. Damnit.)
I was a good card player. (Heather did not inherit this. Damnit.)
I was not good at following the rules. I liked to push the envelope. Sometimes right into the recycle bin or garbage disposal depending on my mood. Better watch out if I am focused on something. It's gonna happen. (Heather may have this trait--oops.)
I was pretty messy. And I became a hoarder. It made it hard for my family. We lost a lot of time when I closed the front door and covered the windows. I wish I had that time back.
I loved mint chip ice cream all my life. In fact, the last time my daughter saw me, she brought me a Ben & Jerry's mint chip milkshake. Drank that whole puppy right up.
I loved mysteries. I could figure out the killer almost every time. Drove Heather nuts.
I was obsessed with Clint Eastwood. He's older than dirt now and his politics got a bit wonky but he was smokin' hot back in the day. My daughter called a few weeks ago testing my memory and crap and I was able to name the ending of all the spaghetti western Eastwood titles she threw at me. "The Good, the Bad..." "and the ugly!". "For a Few..." "Dollars more!". "Hang em..." "High!".
I got them all right. I mean give me something challenging. You know, now that I am an ageless spirit flitting about, I definitely plan to visit Clint's. Well, maybe I need a time machine to visit him when he was in his thirties. The 90s aren't pretty on anyone.
I did every diet on the earth. None worked. Especially since I loved milkshakes and cheeseburgers. Sorry Clover.
I loved playing a game called "The Enchanted Forest" with Heather. And Crazy Eights. I definitely didn't let her win. She had to earn it. I was competitive as hell. So is she. Good girl.
I did not like to be hot. At all. Cool weather was my favorite. My daughter was shocked as my years grew shorter that I started to bundle up and complain of the cold. She reminded me I kept the house at 62 to 65 degrees back on the day.
And finally, I loved almost anything playing in a movie theatre. Going with my daughter. Or with my friends. Or by myself. It was an escape and allowed me to live hundreds of lives instead of just this one that I think was unfairly cut a bit short.
You know, it's odd to try to share your thoughts this way and especially odd to have my daughter ghost write it. (Yes, that's totally a pun! Remember, I'm hilarious.)
Anyway, remember me when the weather is cool and crisp. Especially now as camellias open in NC and the fall coloring is especially ubiquitous (smart, remember?).
Remember me when you laugh at a particularly naughty but clever joke.
Remember me when you think of the Catskill mountains and a couple of kids giggling and chasing each other in the morning sun... splashing in the streams.
The journey goes on.
- Joan
(lovingly and tearfully scribed by my daughter.)
***There will be a drop-in at Heather's home on Thursday, November 10th from 5:30pm to 7:30pm. (If she doesn't have one of my photographs displayed let me know, I'll hide her TV remote. That's a good one I just learned.)
Please RSVP by Nov 6th to hdtaylor@gmail.com. Address provided with RSVP.
In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to:
Defenders of Wildlife
https://defenders.org/wildlife
Hospice and Palliative Care of Charlotte
https://www.hpccr.org
Also, please remember to VOTE in this election.
.........
I love you, Mom. I miss you so much.
-Heather