June was born mentally challenged and never had the “quality of life” as most know it. Regardless of the fact that she was always taken care of and was mainstreamed into society as best as possible, June knew she was different. She didn’t understand the whys and wherefores of “being different”, but she knew she was different. There are so many milestones, that we as normal individuals complete in our lives, which were far beyond the reaches of June’s basic ability to complete. She never knew the fun of learning how to drive, never knew the anticipation of going on a first date, never realized the joy of graduating from high school, going to college, pursuing a career or getting married. June never experienced the love of a husband or the joy of holding a child or grandchild in her arms.
Anything that required normal functional brain ability, June could not do, but she tried with all the ability she could muster. However, June was very good at crafts For many years, when she was attending the Lakeland Multipurpose Center (which is an adult daycare center), she would make a lot of crafts that were sold at craft fairs to make money for the center’s activities. June loved doing this and it was the one thing in her life she could take pride in as an “accomplishment” by her. She became the ‘Queen of the Craft Room’ in her own mind, because crafts were something she could do and do very well. Even at the Amonet Adult Living Facility where June resided for the past several years, June made crafts for them at different times as well. June enjoyed doing crafts and again, this was something she could do and took pride in being able to make things for others, especially during the holidays.
There were accomplishments for June which were big to her . . . I remember one time at our Ladies Bible Class (which June attended before she was unable to do so), she was called on to read a short Bible passage. She would struggle a little through it but she did it and did it well. She was so pleased that she was able to do this and you could see a smile that was slowly spreading from ear to ear. It was as if she was saying inside to herself . . . “Yeah! I can do that and I just did!” This meant so much to her, that she could participate in this manner with other adults. At her ALF, when they had a special event and had flyers to hand out, June was the person they always asked to do this and she took this job seriously; she handed out a flyer to anyone and everyone who came through their front door. She did it with pride and did it well.
June was unable to grasp an understanding of so much in her lifetime here on earth, but one thing she knew and knew very well, and that was . . . she knew there was a God . . . and she knew there was a place called heaven. June was brought up in Catholicism. All she really knew was that she was to attend Mass on certain days. She never understood any of the whys or wherefores of going to church, except that this is what she was always told she had to do and she did it. When June first came to live with us in 1986, I would take her to the Catholic Church on Saturday. When I picked her up I would always ask her to tell me something she remembered or learned. She never had a response other than to say to me that she just sat there for an hour. She was simply going through the motions of “going to church” but had no clue as to why she was doing this or why she should do this, other than the fact that she had done this all of her life. June would also go with us to church on Sunday since we couldn’t leave her by herself.
She loved to sing hymns at church and even though she could not carry a tune in a bucket, she sang to her heart’s desire. Sometimes she even got ME off tune, but be that as it may, this made no difference to her heavenly Father; He heard her songs and to Him they were lovely. He knew she had limitations, but to Him, June was still His child and that was all that mattered. June seemed to enjoy attending church with us and gradually decided on her own that she wanted to attend church with us regularly and did not want to go back to the Catholic Church. When June would attend church with us, I could tell that she was listening . . . and for a while, she could tell me some of the things she heard and what we were studying. However, we were very surprised when she told us one night she wanted to obey the gospel and be baptized. She wanted to be baptized that very night but we told her no, that we needed to discuss the further. June eventually won over (you have to understand that June also has a stubborn streak that just won’t wait too) and she was baptized on Sunday April 4, 1994.
Although June had the mentality of an 8-year-old child all her life and never reached the “age of accountability”, as such was always a child of the Father. June went through times in her life where she endured above and beyond what we would do if we were in her situation. When she was in the hospital this past February, to the amazement of her doctors and all of us involved with her care, she overcame a severely compromising life situation . . . she still wanted to live! In fact, she had said to us on numerous occasions when she was living with us that she was going to live to be 104! She kept on pushing herself to continue with life . . . where others in her situation would have long since given up.
June’s last several months were an up-and-down struggle for her, as she slowly began to lose all control of her mind . . . dementia is an utterly devastating disease . . . and it did not spare June in its ravaging. It was as if her mind would not shut off; like a phonograph recording on continuous play, except the needle was stuck in a groove and it repeated itself over and over to ad infinitum, red, red, red, red, one of June’s favorite colors. When the dementia found another thought, it plucked it from June’s mind and the repetition would begin all over again until the dementia found something else. I am so thankful that June was not aware of the indignities she was having to suffer during this time. Fortunately for June, she slept right through much of her last days here on earth, and her mind was at rest to some degree.
Despite all the suffering and the indignation she went through at the end, June’s time on earth has now ended and the Heavenly Father has taken her home to live with Him in eternity. Today, June is existing in another plane of life . . . one that we here on earth can only imagine the likeness of . . . being surrounded with unfathomable love, joy, peace, warmth, light and beauty . . . a life that we cannot even begin to comprehend with our finite minds, but yet, a place where we all desire to go when our time on this earth has ended. Yes, June may have missed out on a lot of earth’s pleasures as we know them, but now . . . she is basking in all the beauties of heaven. All these years when she seemed to be “below the norm” according to our society and our way of life, she is now ahead of us all! She will know way before many of us will, what heaven is all about and what a beautiful place our heavenly Father has provided for us when it comes our time to pass from this side of life, if we do His will.
Yes, we will miss you June . . . we will miss your antics . . . we will miss seeing you so involved in your “word search puzzles” . . . we will miss seeing you smile when you have finally managed to complete something you have struggled with for so long.
Now today, as we deliver these final parting thoughts on your life as a memorial to you, may your soul be at peace in the arms of our loving Father in heaven. Goodbye June.
Written by Ruth Miller/Copyright, May 27, 2010*
* This memorial tribute was read at June's Memorial Service on June 2, 2010. I was her guardian and she lived with me and my husband for nearly 24 years before she made her journey to her real home. Keeping June was a challenge, as she was born retarded at birth as just one of her problems. At her peak level of intelligence she had the mind of an eight-year-old. And, like every family, we had our good days and not so good days, but June was going to be June, no matter the situation at the time, simply because she was the way she was. As you can see, life was a definite challenge for her although we mainstreamed her as much as possible. As I look back on these years, I realize that June has left me with some very valuable assets that I would have never been given without her. June gave me sight (to see the world as she saw the world), she made me more humble (she made me see through her mind's way of thinking), she instilled in me compassion (she gave deep insight into her world of abnormality), she made me learn endurance (she was strong willed and I had to keep up with her little fisascos), she helped me develop an extreme level of patience (she had her way of doing things regardless of right or wrong), and she perpetuated my thankfulness for being without disability (she struggled throughout her life to try to be a normal person). June will live on in me because of this and she has made me a better human being for the rest of my life.
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