After a nineteen-month* struggle with the nastiness of breast cancer, the effects of chemotherapy and the short-lived relief of blood transfusions, Joana Hudgins, always previously referred to as "J" in these entries, has moved along. Nothing more to see here.
Jo was born in Ohio, and apparently always wanted to leave to see other places. She travelled to 26 of them, mainly reflecting her attraction to Florida and its beaches, birds and palm trees.
Her marriage to The Old Guy resulted in a few short years in Canada, where she learned how we say "out" and "about", eh? As close as we came to paradise was a quarter-acre lakeside bungalow north of Kingston, Ontario. When The Old Guy found new employment, it brought her back to Ohio, although this time to Jackson, in Appalachia. Two years later, that job was eliminated, and another move across the bottom of the state found us in Hamilton, Ohio, a city in the Greater Cincinnati area.
If one were to stick pins in a map where her friends are located, it would be too heavy to lift. Her fascination with the internet probably began with the need to express herself in writing, an endeavor that took her on flights of imagination, grounded in the hardship of not the happiest of childhoods. The net offered her an outlet for her loneliness as well as her sense of humor and her natural empathy for all types of creatures.
The Old Guy met her at the right time: email lists were in vogue, and Jo's musings became public on a listserv called "alt-support-loneliness". It was there that she caught the eye of this former high school English teacher, partly because she held nothing back, and that included creating the occasional portmanteau because her brain worked far faster than even her flying fingers.
Over our 14 years of married life, Jo continued on the nets, became expert on The Sims, got into website creation, and maintained a continuing dialog with anyone who would listen. There were many.
The drum circle called OGADE was a compelling interest for her, not only for its rhythmic appeal, but for the friendships she made there.
Her life in the politics of social justice was just the latest in her many creative ways of expressing her love for people and her frustration at the selfishness and avarice of the oligarchy that saps the political will of this republic. In her role as webmistress for both her own website and the local Democratic party, she worked beyond her limitations to bring in a better life for all.
Her five surviving children experienced unconditional love, and so did the world of animals. Jo got involved in rehabilitation of five raccoon babies, three skunks, a few bunnies and many cats and the birds they wounded. Various landlords had trouble with that side of her loving nature. The internet became her daily source for information on how to heal the hurts of all creatures, great and small. Although she became a fan of "Deadliest Catch", she could not help commenting on "those poor king crabs" while watching an episode. Fortunately, she could not bring them all home.
Neither she nor the oncology team could heal the very aggressive breast cancer that she discovered too late for remediation. It was difficult for her to leave, for a time. But her unconditional love and playful humor glowed brightly even as her candle began to flicker out. Life without Jo will go on, better for her having shown us the way.
*Footnote: Jo was diagnosed in February 2008. I can't do math. Also, her daughter tells me that the phrase "a few bunnies" should be amended to read, "more than a few bunnies". I do remember having to get up early each morning when the dew was still on the ground to pick the finest, largest dandelion leaves (and there were thousands to choose from, such was my groundskeeping expertise) for feeding time.
