This is Jessica’s sunrise photo of the full moon from her Hospice window - her last full moon, January 3, 2026.
Jessica’s death leaves us all aching and empty. When I last saw her, a bare few weeks ago, she was animated, positive, accepting, and I must say, joyful. She said she felt stronger. We sat outside – a true necessity for her – chatted about clouds and light, books, our children, watched the geese. Later she showed me this photo, saying she would paint it.
Butterflies will always connect me to Jess. Once, on a hike, we saw on the trail in front of us a cluster of small yellow butterflies. We stopped, they flew over close to us, and several landed on her shoes! She became thoughtful and told me how butterflies reminded her of her mother and a story (I’ve unfortunately forgotten) about a connection between butterflies and souls of the departed.
Jessica showed us what it looks like to nurture family, loved ones, and friends. She was a steadfast wife; a devoted mother – balancing concerns with trusting and giving freedom; a loyal friend – checking in, listening, sharing. She nurtured family ties – staying in touch with relatives, gently forgiving differences.
And she cared in a larger sense – cared about the earth, the earth’s people and their livelihoods, about ancestors, about those our homesteading ancestors unknowingly pushed aside – always “Recognizing Our Privilege”, to use the title of one of her writings.
Jessica was a free spirit in our relatively constrained world. She thought outside the box, seeing the larger and deeper picture. She was refreshingly, genuinely, connected to her students. Her dress was bold – colorful hair, bright patterned loose pants, dangly earrings, colorful glasses.
How we will sadly miss all this, along with her big smile. But she has left us memories and a world better for her having been here.