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This memorial website was created to remember our beloved Joan Castor, who was born in Albany, New York, on November 21, 1932 and passed away in Lacey, Washington, on December 6, 2008 at the age of 76. You will live forever in our memories and hearts.
By the time Mom moved here to Beckonridge, she had already fought breast cancer, won, and completely surprised herself. In 2001, Joan had a mastectomy and thought chemotherapy would kill her first so she organized yet one more fun-filled summer family reunion on Orcas Island so she could say her goodbyes. She was not expected to live to see that upcoming Christmas. Thus, she made her peace with the world and waited to die. But she didn't. And she had been waiting to die ever since. That bout with such a severe disease killed her spirit because she stopped dreaming and planning her life. By the time she met all of you, many of her good friends had either died or are living out the remainder of their days in a nursing home far away. For the past several years, Mom was not the feisty, focused, optimistic, unstoppable force of nature we had always known her to be.
Yet as you know from the past three months, still she persisted beyond all expectation.
My father used to tell Suzi and I that our mother had the strongest constitution of anyone he ever knew. And he must have been right because as sick as Mom ever got, she always bounced back. We have been at her 'deathbed' many times and she always inexplicably got better. But I would like to share who Mom was when she wasn't struggling with her physical and emotional health—a major theme throughout her life.
Throughout her 30+ years in South Florida, Mom married a few more times and had a couple more kids. She struggled to raise her two youngest, sometimes working three jobs a week, but we had our own home and we were never without what we needed. To save money, Mom made our school lunches, sewed us matching outfits, and gave us home permanents and haircuts (I would always 'allow' Suzi go first and then opt out after my poor little sister ended up with an over-the-ear Trekkie-looking bowl cut). We bought knick-knack items at a wholesale warehouse and sold them on weekends at flea markets. I wrote a letter to God when I was about ten stating that "our family had problems: We couldn't go to church because we had to go to the flea market and make money so we could go on a family vacation." Priorities!
With her business finesse, Mom opened a small restaurant called John & Mary's and it became a very popular family diner. Mom held the family together through thick and thin and showed us how to have a strong work ethic. She made sure there was always time for fun activities as she sacrificed nicer things for herself to pay for and shuffle us kids to music lessons, sports, plays, all the theme parks in Florida, the fairgrounds, campgrounds, and Christmas at Gramma's house in Pennsylvania. While running races in high school, I could hear my mom and little sister hollering louder than anyone else in the park. And we were never far from the beach. Life was centered around family gatherings, school, pets, projects, and always having something to look forward to.
I appreciate you all being here today to learn about one of your neighbors who could not bring herself to become more involved socially and believed she was more of a burden to folks than a joy. I want to especially thank her closest friends here, who persisted in helping her even when she tried to deny she needed it. Jan always cared for the cats during mom's stays in the hospital or whenever she was away, and please know that this was extremely important to Joan to know that her "babies" were well-cared for and in good hands. And Bill and Claudia kept their eye on Joan, delivered the mail, put gas in the car, offered to take her where she needed to go, ran errands, attended family social events, and were always willing to help out whenever they could.
When I was sorting through Mom's things, I came across something she had saved in with the items she wanted us to have after she died. It's the "Don't Stand Before My Grave and Weep" poem; you may have heard it before. I'll leave it here for folks to read.
This short history was pieced together from my memory and is drastically incomplete, so if anybody has any stories, thoughts, or memories about Joan Castor/Mom/Grandma you would like to share, I invite you now. Thank you again.
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