OT, Long, don't give a damn; Joyce Brauer 1936 - 2005

My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama, passed
yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer. She went peacefully, for
which I profoundly thank God; the Hospice people did a damn good job keeping
her out of pain and comfortable. If only they could do the same for the boys
now. They're bitter, and who could blame them? No human being deserves to go
like that, in so much pain that they lose the ability to walk, and on so
much morphine that they're comatose.

No, not fully comatose. Her son Dale gave me the picture I shall carry for a
good long time to come...they say the last thing to go is the hearing, and
Dale likes to be heard. He's a shameless talker and can't keep his mouth
shut, just like Joycie. At one point he said the tables were turned, he had
a captive audience, and she couldn't get the last word. Of course, not all
words are spoken with lips; ask any deaf person. Less than 3 minutes after
Dale said this, a nurse came in to see to Joycie's medication, and upon
pulling the sheet back to give an injection they saw her fist on the
mattress, middle finger extended. She hadn't the strength to lift her hand,
but enough to pull together to flip her son off. And damn if she didn't get
the last word. Her last word, F*ck You. Of course, this was her attitude to
the rest of the world: you don't like me, you don't like my politics or how
I practice my religion, or how I support the right of my sons to be gay,
f*ck you. That's how she was when I first knew her, in my early teens: a
tiny woman who scared the Christ of of the school's administration when
she'd come in to complain of how her sons were suffering discrimination on
account of their severe poverty, and what was then a suspicion of being gay.
You could hear her cussing out the principal in the next county. She wasn't
all about cussing though, because Joycie was a Christian in the truest
sense: her gifts to the church were the true widow's mite of the Bible, for
she was so poor that all she could give the parish was the last coins of her
state aid checks. Her home was open to every runaway, every abused kid,
every hungry kid in town; and despite the poverty the family suffered in the
early years I knew them, God provided. They didn't starve, nor did anyone
who came to Joyce who needed a place to crash, come down from dope, escape,
or get food when their own parents drank up the kids' lunch money. Her karma
came back to her in spades: she learned a trade, got out of the vicious
welfare cycle, and became a passionate animal rights person, and was
rewarded for her kindness with self-sufficiency and prosperity.

I had it all together until we left the hospital, went back to her
apartment, and saw a bottle of kiddie vitamins on the shelf. She kept them
there for me, knowing I just love the taste of Flintstones vitamins. That's
when I went bat****. Over a vitamin bottle, of all things. But what's a
vitamin? You give it to your kids to enhance their health and well-being,
and that's her legacy to me. That, and the taste of a delectable Dino. You
all have to excuse me, I'm not with it. I am so not with it I got sent home
from work today. Oy.

Joyce Brauer leaves behind three sons and her beloved dog Benny, and a ton
of people whose lives are better for the open doors of her home and heart. I
am one of those people and I'm proud to have known her. She passes over the
Bridge to meet her dear Shadow who passed a few years ago, and the creatures
she loved and cared for both in her home long before I knew her, and those
who knew her love and care through shelters where she volunteered and the
pet store where she worked. She will also get to know her daughter Tammy,
who died a few hours after she was born.

For all of you who offered prayers, purrs and words of encouragement over
these past few months, many thanks to you on behalf of the Brauer family.
They know you all were pulling for Joycie and appreciate it greatly. If
anyone here makes donations to the ASPCA, please consider one in her memory;
this was her greatest cause, and in her lifetime she wanted that every
animal should be a wanted animal, and that none should needlessly suffer or
contribute to the animal population due to the negligence of humans who
won't take the time or effort to spay or neuter.

Joycie was a damn good woman. Were there more like here, we might have a
better and brighter world. Please pray now for her boys and Mike, for their
healing, and that the anger and bitterness make way for peace.

Blessed be,
Baha

--

Three thousand years ago,
cats were deified in ancient Egypt.
To this day, they have not forgotten.

"Singh" wrote in message
...
My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama, passed
yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer. She went peacefully,
for
which I profoundly thank God; the Hospice people did a damn good job
keeping
her out of pain and comfortable. If only they could do the same for the
boys

Regretful snip of a truly wonderful tribute to a beautiful woman. Her
beauty shines forth in the words you write about her. Condolences to you,
her family, and all others she touched, during this time of sorrow.

I enjoyed the story of her response to Mike's talking.

Thank you for sharing.

Diane

I'm so sorry. Hugs and purrs,
--
Britta
"There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast." -- Unknown
Check out pictures of Vino at:
http://photos.yahoo.com/badwilson click on the Vino album




Singh wrote:
My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama,
passed yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer. She went
peacefully, for which I profoundly thank God; the Hospice people did
a damn good job keeping her out of pain and comfortable. If only
they
could do the same for the boys now. They're bitter, and who could
blame them? No human being deserves to go like that, in so much pain
that they lose the ability to walk, and on so much morphine that
they're comatose.

No, not fully comatose. Her son Dale gave me the picture I shall
carry for a good long time to come...they say the last thing to go
is
the hearing, and Dale likes to be heard. He's a shameless talker and
can't keep his mouth shut, just like Joycie. At one point he said
the
tables were turned, he had a captive audience, and she couldn't get
the last word. Of course, not all words are spoken with lips; ask
any
deaf person. Less than 3 minutes after Dale said this, a nurse came
in to see to Joycie's medication, and upon pulling the sheet back to
give an injection they saw her fist on the mattress, middle finger
extended. She hadn't the strength to lift her hand, but enough to
pull together to flip her son off. And damn if she didn't get the
last word. Her last word, F*ck You. Of course, this was her attitude
to the rest of the world: you don't like me, you don't like my
politics or how I practice my religion, or how I support the right
of
my sons to be gay, f*ck you. That's how she was when I first knew
her, in my early teens: a tiny woman who scared the Christ of of the
school's administration when she'd come in to complain of how her
sons were suffering discrimination on account of their severe
poverty, and what was then a suspicion of being gay. You could hear
her cussing out the principal in the next county. She wasn't all
about cussing though, because Joycie was a Christian in the truest
sense: her gifts to the church were the true widow's mite of the
Bible, for she was so poor that all she could give the parish was
the
last coins of her state aid checks. Her home was open to every
runaway, every abused kid, every hungry kid in town; and despite the
poverty the family suffered in the early years I knew them, God
provided. They didn't starve, nor did anyone who came to Joyce who
needed a place to crash, come down from dope, escape, or get food
when their own parents drank up the kids' lunch money. Her karma
came
back to her in spades: she learned a trade, got out of the vicious
welfare cycle, and became a passionate animal rights person, and was
rewarded for her kindness with self-sufficiency and prosperity.

I had it all together until we left the hospital, went back to her
apartment, and saw a bottle of kiddie vitamins on the shelf. She
kept
them there for me, knowing I just love the taste of Flintstones
vitamins. That's when I went bat****. Over a vitamin bottle, of all
things. But what's a vitamin? You give it to your kids to enhance
their health and well-being, and that's her legacy to me. That, and
the taste of a delectable Dino. You all have to excuse me, I'm not
with it. I am so not with it I got sent home from work today. Oy.

Joyce Brauer leaves behind three sons and her beloved dog Benny, and
a ton of people whose lives are better for the open doors of her
home
and heart. I am one of those people and I'm proud to have known her.
She passes over the Bridge to meet her dear Shadow who passed a few
years ago, and the creatures she loved and cared for both in her
home
long before I knew her, and those who knew her love and care through
shelters where she volunteered and the pet store where she worked.
She will also get to know her daughter Tammy, who died a few hours
after she was born.

For all of you who offered prayers, purrs and words of encouragement
over these past few months, many thanks to you on behalf of the
Brauer family. They know you all were pulling for Joycie and
appreciate it greatly. If anyone here makes donations to the ASPCA,
please consider one in her memory; this was her greatest cause, and
in her lifetime she wanted that every animal should be a wanted
animal, and that none should needlessly suffer or contribute to the
animal population due to the negligence of humans who won't take the
time or effort to spay or neuter.

Joycie was a damn good woman. Were there more like here, we might
have a better and brighter world. Please pray now for her boys and
Mike, for their healing, and that the anger and bitterness make way
for peace.

Blessed be,
Baha

Condolences to all who loved her

Gordon & the TT

"Singh" wrote
My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama,
passed
yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer.

"Singh" wrote in message
...
My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama, passed
yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer. She went peacefully,
for
which I profoundly thank God; the Hospice people did a damn good job
keeping
her out of pain and comfortable. If only they could do the same for the
boys
now. They're bitter, and who could blame them? No human being deserves to
go
like that, in so much pain that they lose the ability to walk, and on so
much morphine that they're comatose.

No, not fully comatose. Her son Dale gave me the picture I shall carry for
a
good long time to come...they say the last thing to go is the hearing, and
Dale likes to be heard. He's a shameless talker and can't keep his mouth
shut, just like Joycie. At one point he said the tables were turned, he
had
a captive audience, and she couldn't get the last word. Of course, not all
words are spoken with lips; ask any deaf person. Less than 3 minutes after
Dale said this, a nurse came in to see to Joycie's medication, and upon
pulling the sheet back to give an injection they saw her fist on the
mattress, middle finger extended. She hadn't the strength to lift her
hand,
but enough to pull together to flip her son off. And damn if she didn't
get
the last word. Her last word, F*ck You. Of course, this was her attitude
to
the rest of the world: you don't like me, you don't like my politics or
how
I practice my religion, or how I support the right of my sons to be gay,
f*ck you. That's how she was when I first knew her, in my early teens: a
tiny woman who scared the Christ of of the school's administration when
she'd come in to complain of how her sons were suffering discrimination on
account of their severe poverty, and what was then a suspicion of being
gay.
You could hear her cussing out the principal in the next county. She
wasn't
all about cussing though, because Joycie was a Christian in the truest
sense: her gifts to the church were the true widow's mite of the Bible,
for
she was so poor that all she could give the parish was the last coins of
her
state aid checks. Her home was open to every runaway, every abused kid,
every hungry kid in town; and despite the poverty the family suffered in
the
early years I knew them, God provided. They didn't starve, nor did anyone
who came to Joyce who needed a place to crash, come down from dope,
escape,
or get food when their own parents drank up the kids' lunch money. Her
karma
came back to her in spades: she learned a trade, got out of the vicious
welfare cycle, and became a passionate animal rights person, and was
rewarded for her kindness with self-sufficiency and prosperity.

I had it all together until we left the hospital, went back to her
apartment, and saw a bottle of kiddie vitamins on the shelf. She kept them
there for me, knowing I just love the taste of Flintstones vitamins.
That's
when I went bat****. Over a vitamin bottle, of all things. But what's a
vitamin? You give it to your kids to enhance their health and well-being,
and that's her legacy to me. That, and the taste of a delectable Dino. You
all have to excuse me, I'm not with it. I am so not with it I got sent
home
from work today. Oy.

Joyce Brauer leaves behind three sons and her beloved dog Benny, and a ton
of people whose lives are better for the open doors of her home and heart.
I
am one of those people and I'm proud to have known her. She passes over
the
Bridge to meet her dear Shadow who passed a few years ago, and the
creatures
she loved and cared for both in her home long before I knew her, and those
who knew her love and care through shelters where she volunteered and the
pet store where she worked. She will also get to know her daughter Tammy,
who died a few hours after she was born.

For all of you who offered prayers, purrs and words of encouragement over
these past few months, many thanks to you on behalf of the Brauer family.
They know you all were pulling for Joycie and appreciate it greatly. If
anyone here makes donations to the ASPCA, please consider one in her
memory;
this was her greatest cause, and in her lifetime she wanted that every
animal should be a wanted animal, and that none should needlessly suffer
or
contribute to the animal population due to the negligence of humans who
won't take the time or effort to spay or neuter.

Joycie was a damn good woman. Were there more like here, we might have a
better and brighter world. Please pray now for her boys and Mike, for
their
healing, and that the anger and bitterness make way for peace.

Blessed be,
Baha

Beautiful tribute, Baha! I'll light a candle tonight to help Joycie find
her way to the Rainbow Bridge!

Hugs,

CatNipped


--

Three thousand years ago,
cats were deified in ancient Egypt.
To this day, they have not forgotten.

Singh wrote:

My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama, passed
yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer.

I am so sorry for the loss of your friend, Baha. You wrote a beautiful
tribute to her. Purrs to her family and everyone who will miss her.

--
Marina, Frank and Miranda. In loving memory of Nikki.
marina (dot) kurten (at) iki (dot) fi
Pics at http://uk.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/frankiennikki/
and http://community.webshots.com/user/frankiennikki

God bless this fine lady and give her a place of honor in paradise forever.
And may her sons and any other relatives (two- and four-footed) and
friends also have peace and consolation in their time of loss.

Donna, Captain, and Stanley

P.S. I shouldn't have read this one at work. I burst out laughing aloud
when I reached the part about the Significant Digit Salute. ) More power
to her!

On Thu, 30 Jun 2005 00:21:48 -0400, "Singh"
wrote:

My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama, passed
yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer. She went peacefully, for
which I profoundly thank God; the Hospice people did a damn good job keeping
her out of pain and comfortable. If only they could do the same for the boys
now. They're bitter, and who could blame them? No human being deserves to go
like that, in so much pain that they lose the ability to walk, and on so
much morphine that they're comatose.

No, not fully comatose. Her son Dale gave me the picture I shall carry for a
good long time to come...they say the last thing to go is the hearing, and
Dale likes to be heard. He's a shameless talker and can't keep his mouth
shut, just like Joycie. At one point he said the tables were turned, he had
a captive audience, and she couldn't get the last word. Of course, not all
words are spoken with lips; ask any deaf person. Less than 3 minutes after
Dale said this, a nurse came in to see to Joycie's medication, and upon
pulling the sheet back to give an injection they saw her fist on the
mattress, middle finger extended. She hadn't the strength to lift her hand,
but enough to pull together to flip her son off. And damn if she didn't get
the last word. Her last word, F*ck You. Of course, this was her attitude to
the rest of the world: you don't like me, you don't like my politics or how
I practice my religion, or how I support the right of my sons to be gay,
f*ck you. That's how she was when I first knew her, in my early teens: a
tiny woman who scared the Christ of of the school's administration when
she'd come in to complain of how her sons were suffering discrimination on
account of their severe poverty, and what was then a suspicion of being gay.
You could hear her cussing out the principal in the next county. She wasn't
all about cussing though, because Joycie was a Christian in the truest
sense: her gifts to the church were the true widow's mite of the Bible, for
she was so poor that all she could give the parish was the last coins of her
state aid checks. Her home was open to every runaway, every abused kid,
every hungry kid in town; and despite the poverty the family suffered in the
early years I knew them, God provided. They didn't starve, nor did anyone
who came to Joyce who needed a place to crash, come down from dope, escape,
or get food when their own parents drank up the kids' lunch money. Her karma
came back to her in spades: she learned a trade, got out of the vicious
welfare cycle, and became a passionate animal rights person, and was
rewarded for her kindness with self-sufficiency and prosperity.

I had it all together until we left the hospital, went back to her
apartment, and saw a bottle of kiddie vitamins on the shelf. She kept them
there for me, knowing I just love the taste of Flintstones vitamins. That's
when I went bat****. Over a vitamin bottle, of all things. But what's a
vitamin? You give it to your kids to enhance their health and well-being,
and that's her legacy to me. That, and the taste of a delectable Dino. You
all have to excuse me, I'm not with it. I am so not with it I got sent home
from work today. Oy.

Joyce Brauer leaves behind three sons and her beloved dog Benny, and a ton
of people whose lives are better for the open doors of her home and heart. I
am one of those people and I'm proud to have known her. She passes over the
Bridge to meet her dear Shadow who passed a few years ago, and the creatures
she loved and cared for both in her home long before I knew her, and those
who knew her love and care through shelters where she volunteered and the
pet store where she worked. She will also get to know her daughter Tammy,
who died a few hours after she was born.

For all of you who offered prayers, purrs and words of encouragement over
these past few months, many thanks to you on behalf of the Brauer family.
They know you all were pulling for Joycie and appreciate it greatly. If
anyone here makes donations to the ASPCA, please consider one in her memory;
this was her greatest cause, and in her lifetime she wanted that every
animal should be a wanted animal, and that none should needlessly suffer or
contribute to the animal population due to the negligence of humans who
won't take the time or effort to spay or neuter.

Joycie was a damn good woman. Were there more like here, we might have a
better and brighter world. Please pray now for her boys and Mike, for their
healing, and that the anger and bitterness make way for peace.

Blessed be,
Baha


{{{{Baha}}}}} I am so sorry for the loss of your friend. Thank you
for such a beautiful post to honor her.

May her family and you and all who loved her find healing in time.

Blessings,

Ginger-lyn

Home Pages:
http://www.spiritrealm.com/summer/
http://www.angelfire.com/folk/glsummer (homepage & cats)
http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb....mmer/index.htm (genealogy)
http://www.movieanimals.bravehost.com/ (The Violence Against
Animals in Movies Website)

"Singh" wrote in message
...
My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama, passed
yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer. She went peacefully,
for
which I profoundly thank God; the Hospice people did a damn good job
keeping
her out of pain and comfortable. If only they could do the same for the
boys
now. They're bitter, and who could blame them? No human being deserves to
go
like that, in so much pain that they lose the ability to walk, and on so
much morphine that they're comatose.



I'm so sorry Baha. I wish I'd known Joyce, she sounds like the kind of
person I'd like to be.

Pam S.

"Pamela Shirk" wrote in message
link.net...

"Singh" wrote in message
...
My dear friend and surrogate mother Joyce, my best buddy's mama, passed
yesterday morning, after a long battle with cancer. She went peacefully,
for
which I profoundly thank God; the Hospice people did a damn good job
keeping
her out of pain and comfortable. If only they could do the same for the
boys
now. They're bitter, and who could blame them? No human being deserves
to
go
like that, in so much pain that they lose the ability to walk, and on so
much morphine that they're comatose.



I'm so sorry Baha. I wish I'd known Joyce, she sounds like the kind of
person I'd like to be.


She really does sound like she was a wonderful person.