This is for you, Jane: The Queen of Nonsense

On the left is my sister, Katie, the Giant.

I debated whether or not to put this on my blog. After all, it’s meant to be filled with endearingly comedic anecdotes and sassy ramblings on nonsense, not painful realities of loss. But to not speak of someone I loved so deeply, that would be a disservice, because that’s who my grandma was – endearing and comedic. She often addressed waitstaff as “Honey” and, if she ordered buffalo chicken, she’d inevitably spark a debate with the server and the entire table over wings versus drummies. She was a Miss Budweiser first runner-up in the 1940s. She enjoyed cooking so much that we never had the heart to tell her the Thanksgiving turkey was usually dry. She gave me a bag of edamame once when she found out I was vegan for a hot second (pictured). She had just heard of it from her local grocer and thought I’d know what to do.

I’d like to think that’s where I get it. Together, Jane and I were a couple of kooks. We both were given the gift of ignoring street smarts. We share a love of good deals we’ll never use, dislike mean people, and put a family ballpark dinner on par with dining at Jean Georges as George Clooney’s arm candy.

My Grandma went out in serious style. She notoriously loved pink, so we all wore it to her wake and funeral, scaring the other mourning families nearby. During the priest’s homily he mentioned White Castle burgers (my grandma’s favorite) and the electricity flickered on and off several times. Her wake was 7 hours long with a line wrapped around the building ala Six Flags, people waiting nearly 2 hours just to pay their respects. And, like a true Catholic, her memorial was at an Irish Pub she loved – this swell of German-Americans wearing black and hot pink toasted Budweisers and ate buffalo wings in her honor, scaring the other patrons nearby.

Jane Weis was not a rock star, or a famous actor, nor was she a scientist, lawyer, or math whiz (the one time she checked my math homework, my teacher asked me if something had happened because it was “just confusing”). She didn’t belong in those fields. Jane Weis had this incredible gift to love others and remember every detail about you. And so, grandma is who she became - a fitting job for a woman with a big heart and an infectious laugh. And that was more than enough for her.

Like many others, I doubt my grandma ever read my blog. I don’t think she believed in technology unless it was a singing, light-up Christmas decoration. That stuff didn’t matter to her. “Do you know your neighbor’s name, Erin?” She’d always ask me when I’d visit. And when I’d be forced to admit “No”, she’d reply with the wisdom only a grandma has, “That’s a real shame.”

She was one hell of a woman. She loved to laugh and make others laugh, mostly unintentionally. I can only hope to do the same.

She was and will always be the light of my life and countless others.

Give ‘em hell, Granny.