The Joyful Mysteries for Jocelyn Nydam Redfern - Rosary held for Jocelyn - by Joanne Pearring

(in no particular order)

First Joyful Mystery, The Annunciation.

1. Jocelyn’s first “Yes” to God began with her birth in Manitou Springs, when our neighbor Jessie Stump called upstairs, ‘Do I hear a baby up there.”

2. Baby Josie went to work with us, greeting visitors to our office at Catholic Youth Ministries with a “Hi and a smile” until she was 2. She attended planning meetings, the weird Olympics, a track event at the USAFA, dances, retreats, and celebrations.

3. When her parents started working from home, Josie welcomed her brother Jeffrey on October 29, 1979.

4. At 5, she responded to my request to do something by saying, “Mom, that isn’t necessary.” And she was right.

5. A veracious reader at seven, she informed me that I needed to learn a second language for when I had my stroke. A second language is stored in a part of the brain not affected by a stroke, so I would still be able to talk to her.

6. Her first communion at Our Lady of Perpetual Help was a joy-filled gathering of family, friends, and Church community.

7. During our time at Our Lady of Perpetual Help, Josie became the big sister to Jillian, Julia, Judith, and Jenelle.

8. In junior year, she called asking for permission to go to a party after the football game. But when we said, “OK,” she responded, “I understand. I will be right home.”

9. Jocelyn learned to read and speak a bit in German, the King’s French, Parisian French (reading Le Mis in French in a week as a senior), and Mandarin.

10. She was confirmed at Corpus Christi by her spiritual leader and friend, Bishop Richard C Hanifen.

Second Joyful Mystery, The Visitation.

1. As a young child, Josie would go next door to visit Jessie Stump. She loved spending time with her surrogate Grandmother.

2. Her childhood friend was Sara Kledzik, just up the street and around the corner. Her dad, Larry Kledzik, a Manitou artist and family friend, offered Josie art lessons so she would work with live models. She said, “No, thank you. I am just a Xerox machine reproducing the images. I am not inspired to create art.”

3. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter dinners were spent years with Pete, Linda, Andrew, and Marc playing Legos before and after the meal. The Michelins were the only ones brave enough to invite a family with six young children to dinner.

4. She traveled solo to visit her Godfather’s children, Barron and Alexa, in Rancho Sante Fe, CA. However, on one such visit, she refused the offer to drive her Godfather’s new Ferrari. She just wasn’t interested in a fast or expensive car.

5. She traveled with her brother Jeff to visit the seven Lang family cousins in Manhattan Beach, CA. It was the best of times, as they were also readers. Josie’s favorite visit was when the Langs surprised us by knocking on the door one Christmas morning. She quickly orchestrated winter jackets, hats, and boots for all seven of her California cousins.

6. At 15, she agreed to care for the infant of one of John’s business associates in Germany part-time for the summer. When the 20 hours turned into 40, she never complained or called to ask to come home. We didn’t find out until she returned home, and then it was from the baby’s mother, not Jocelyn.

7. Jocelyn was the Designated Driver for her friends’ gatherings.

8. In recent years, Jocelyn joined friends to revive the Manitou Springs Women’s Club and invited her mother to attend with her.

9. Jocelyn started “Fox & Shrew,” designing dresses with pockets and silk linings, sizing the patterns, choosing the fabric, and managing inventory, marketing, and sales for her dress company. You can still find it at https://foxandshrew.com.

10. Her motto: “We put conscience at the heart of our business model, creating exceptionally beautiful clothing that is made to last. We make every garment from cotton deadstock, sourced exclusively from other woman-owned businesses. We cut every piece by hand, to conserve materials and reduce textile waste. We donate all scraps for reuse by local textile artists. Each garment is handmade by a skilled artesian-you can find their signature on the care tag.”

Third Joyful Mystery, The Birth of Jesus

1. Dressed in scrubs at her brother’s bed in the ICU, just hours after he was born at home with complications, she leaned over him and said, “Don’t worry, he will be all right.”

2. We found her hiding behind a door on her first day at preschool. She didn’t want to return because “the teachers took her work from her before she was finished, and the kids on the playground were mean.”

3. Josie started the Pearring legacy at “Born to the Golden Mountain Montessori School,” which ended when her two sons, Zeke and Chi, graduated.

4. On the third day of 1st grade, she was reading Huckleberry Finn when the teacher asked her a question. She answered correctly before returning to her reading and was immediately promoted to the second grade.

5. In elementary, she wore dresses with pockets and hats, but hats were no longer allowed in middle school.

6. Her interests were Science, Music, and Art. She enjoyed spending time with Mrs. McGrew in the Gifted and Talented Program.

7. As an adult, she dropped “Josie” and became “Jocelyn,” continuing to wear dresses. Her shoes graduated to 4” heels, with a matching handbag holding the current book she was reading, a scarf, or other accessory.

8. The Birth of Ezekiel, “Zeke” in NYC on September 17, 2006. Jocelyn was the only one that night who didn’t have a C-section.

9. Malachi, “Chi,” was born suddenly and early on May 29, 2008, when her water broke.

Fourth Joyful Mystery- The Presentation in the Temple

1. In high school, Josie befriended a German foreign exchange student, Kristin, and discovered that Kristin’s living situation was not safe. The Morath family from Our Lady of Perpetual Help then sponsored Kristin. A few years later, Josie had us sponsor her sister Eva, who quickly became a part of the family.

2. A classmate, Cassie, was living in a dangerous situation. Josie welcomed Cassie into our home, giving up half her bedroom. Cassie went on to attend Colorado College on scholarship and graduated magna cum laude.

3. The Manitou Springs School Board voted to allow high schoolers to opt out of health because of Josie’s answers on the final. She received a failing grade for answering the questions according to her faith. To the question of the three reasons for suicide, Josie answered: “There are no reasons for suicide. God gives life and only God can take life. Life is God’s gift of love.” Her brother Jeff took Ballroom dancing at PPCC instead of health the following year.

4. At Mock Trail in high school, the judge came down from the bench to shake Josie’s hand and say, “I hope to see you in court someday.” She told me, “I could never become a lawyer because I would become mean-spirited.” She also decided against being a doctor because “I would have a lousy bedside manner.”

5. Despite being first chair flute, achieving all 1’s at competitions, when Mr. Nuccio told her, “Although you play technically perfect, you don’t play with feeling.” She agreed and quit to make way for someone else.

6. In High School, Jocelyn wrote about my friend Karen’s Multiple Sclerosis, winning a $25,000 scholarship to college.

7. At graduation, as President of the Senior Class, she introduced her predecessor, James Bixler, to get the recognition she felt he deserved.

8. During college she renovated her four-unit brownstone in Montreal, plastering, tiling, bricking, rewiring and plumbing by reading instructions on the internet. She gave the profit from its sale to her parents to use as down payments for two of her siblings’ property purchases.

9. After the Manitou flood, her family welcomed Lorilei, an artist, into their home until she could recover from losing everything.

Fifth Joyful Mystery- The Finding in the Temple

1. At every University she attended — McGill in Quebec, Trinity in Dublin, Columbia in NYC, and Regis in Denver — she only took undergraduate and graduate theology courses. She never received a diploma. “What job would a degree in theology be good for anyway?”

2. Jocelyn loved to walk everywhere, from the trails in Manitou to the mountains of Europe and Asia and big city streets. She completed many day-long journeys, one of which was the perimeter of Manhattan with friends who joined her for sections along the way—a 32-mile hike.

3. In 2000, when the baggage equipment at the new DIA lost her luggage, she continued to San Francisco borrowing clothes from her sisters for Grandma Louise’s funeral.

4. When she returned to DIA to pick up her suitcase, the new automatic baggage handling equipment had destroyed it. They gave her a new suitcase and a check for $56.37 for the 32 items missing, mostly paperbacks sawed in half by the machinery. I pointed out to the baggage agent that they were lucky it wasn’t her younger sister’s suitcase … one pair of jeans was more than the $56.37.

5. In 2001, she came home from Taiwan without being asked, leaving behind her teaching job and friends to help her parents in their time of need.

6. As executive assistant to the Chairmen of the Board of Tishman Speyer, she handled all his correspondence, including invitations for the annual “American Christmas” at Rockefeller Center. Her boss negotiated the contract for her next job as Director of Marketing with New Wave Media, a publishing company with multiple monthly maritime magazines.

7. Back in Colorado, she delayed the launch of her clothing line, “Fox & Shrew,” to stay home with her sons, Zeke and Chi, during the COVID school shutdown.

8. Jocelyn renovated her clothing store, leveled the floor, and built dressing rooms, a dais with full-length mirrors, a back room for inventory, and a photo booth for marketing shots. She also outfitted a Metro Van so that her models could change outfits as she drove to different locations for photo shoots. Her dresses are featured in a NYC SoHo boutique.

9. She was the only family member to make the time to read and understand her sister Jillian’s doctorate and subsequent published papers.

10. Before she died, Jocelyn gave away her dresses, shoes, handbags, and accessories to her siblings and girlfriends. May she be clothed in the glory of the Lord.

Joanne wrote special intercessions for Jocelyn's funeral. Over a year later, we heard from Sue, who orchestrated the funeral for our family.

Such a “Spirit” thing that you would send this to me because last week I was reading the beautiful intercessions, using verses of Psalm 23, you composed for Josie’s funeral. Sue Gerlach - Nov. 11, 2025

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verdant pastures he gives me repose.”

For Jocelyn, who in baptism was given the pledge of eternal life. May she now be admitted to the company of the saints.

“Beside restful waters he leads me, he refreshes my soul.”

For our daughter, sister, friend, spouse, mother, and aunt, as she rests in the Lord, free from her labors and suffering.

“He guides me in right paths…I fear no evil, for he is at my side.”

For Jocelyn’s children, husband, friends, siblings and parents. May they live Gospel-filled lives and abide in God’s love.

“Only goodness and kindness follow me all the days of my life.”

For all who mourn with us today, and for all who loved and cared for Jocelyn during her life. May they find consolation in Jesus’ promise of eternal life to those who labor in his name.

“And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for years to come.”

For our deceased relatives and friends as they join the Lord to welcome Jocelyn to her eternal home.

All-powerful and ever-living God in whom we live and move and have our being, we thank you and praise you for your gift of life.

Hear the prayers of your people, who rejoice in your gifts of life and love, family and friends.

Send your Spirit of truth and justice to turn our hearts from darkness to light.

We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen

At 46, a birthday/feast/death shared with a Saint - Our Jocelyn had Jesus' same knack for rhetoric

John Francis Pearring, Nov 04, 2025 - on the Memorial of Saint Charles Borromeo, Bishop

Romans 12:5-16ab, Luke 14:15-24

I’m not sure anyone in the family has made, or even imagined, the connection between our late daughter Jocelyn and St. Charles Borromeo. I didn’t see it until today.

Jocelyn died on June 23, 2024. She was born on November 4, 1977. Nov. 4, today, is the feast day for Charles. Charles died on November 3, 1584, at the age of 46. The Church selected November 4 as his feast day. Jocelyn was 46 when she died.

Feast day for Charles and now our Jocelyn, both dead at 46.

It’s a coincidental connection, at best, I suppose. Jocelyn, though, likely checked on this fella, looking up the saint’s feast on her birthday. She was fascinated with these kinds of details. Borromeo and Jocelyn were the older ones in families with six children. Besides being a theology nerd, like Charles, the comparisons with Jocelyn probably stop there.

However, the two share an uncommon character trait. Borromeo was a severe man and an eventual heavy-handed archbishop. It doesn’t sound good, but the biographical details reveal the necessary courage and stability that come with the leadership gene. The priest-cum-bishop was an uncompromising leader, which at the time was of great benefit to the Catholic Church. Without his determination, the Church would have been overrun.

Jocelyn possessed this uncompromising character trait as well, although her heavy hand dealt less with Borromeo’s worrisome wars and terrorism and more with the fundamentals of right and wrong—a welcome check and balance feature in a family.

Fueled by Charles’s similar stance on ethical issues, Jocelyn held the unapologetic reins of authority over her five younger siblings. Both of these heaven-sent souls were loved for that kind of leadership. She was frustrated at times with those outside of her control, but respectfully appreciative (though dismissive of those who should know better). God gave her a remarkable conviction. In her inner circle, her children and husband were protected fiercely.

Charles fell ill with “intermittent fever and ague,” and died from an unidentified disease, according to his biography in Lives of the Saints. Jocelyn was taken out by cancer, recorded only in family epitaphs.

The laundry list of seven gifts in Romans 5, which Paul then associates each with their subsequent responsibilities, reminds me of Jocelyn. She possessed the gifts of hospitality, ministry, zeal, sincerity, and hope, and had a deep affinity for the lowly. She graced many family and friends with them. However, the gift of “teacher” eluded her. Teaching took more patience than she was given. “That I cannot do,” she once said with emphasis. “Six out of seven isn’t bad,” she might have commented. (Or, maybe that’s just me.)

I am also reminded of Jocelyn in watching Jesus’ orchestration at the meal with the elite from Jewish high society, as told in today’s Gospel from Luke. The way Jesus handled their stuffiness and arrogance fit our daughter and sister, Jocelyn, to a “T.”

“But they were unable to answer his question,” wrote Luke about Jesus’ responses to the haughty Jews who foolishly tested him. Our Jocelyn had the same knack for rhetoric. Parables would not have been a tool for her, but the blunt truth she could deliver.

Yes, the loss of Jocelyn remains raw. I see much of life through a different lens since she shuffled off this mortal coil. Death will do that to the living. I hear the daily readings with a mind’s eye upon memories of her life. I am told this is how grief works its way. Memories of my lost friends and other family members appear in scripture constantly. It’s both lovely and painful.

I like to think of this communion with the dead as akin to the Father’s love and mercy. It’s essential to strive for what we yearn for — reuniting with those we've lost by praying for them and honoring their memory. We barely meet the basic requirements of love here, and so depend mightily upon his mercy. That’s why Jesus took every broken trust, angry word, and heinous intention upon himself. He brought the ancient dead to Heaven by claiming them as righteous, for goodness’ sake.

Paul knew from our failures what we must do:

Let love be sincere;hate what is evil,hold on to what is good;love one another with mutual affection;anticipate one another in showing honor.

Jocelyn mirrored well God’s purpose for graced gifts, though like many of us, she didn’t realize that fully, until now, gazing upon the source of all good, the model of mutual affection, and the epitome of honor. Her view of the beatific vision of God at this moment is one we can hardly imagine.

In the meantime, until we join our loved ones in that gaze, we want to do the right thing. Let us, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.”

Thank you to all of you for coming this morning. Your condolences, comforts, hugs, and kind words have been extremely important to all of us. For those new to a Catholic Church funeral service, our faith believes in the afterlife as an everlasting union with God, the saints, and the angels. We send off our family and friends with sacred care, trusting that they are free, in the arms of God, and surrounded by loved ones. We invoke holy scriptures, ancient prayers, soulful music, and uplifted hearts. Joanne and I, Xander and the boys, and Jocelyn’s sisters and brother, are so grateful for you being here with us, and hope you are moved and inspired by this service so lovingly prepared by Father Jarrod and Sue Gerhlach. They are gifts and treasures to families like ours burdened by grief. Thank you.

Our children, who had precious moments with their sister, told us Jocelyn was at peace with her impending death, a brutal experience, but one she bravely and with unimaginable strength bore until her last breath. Her last words to us in a wonderful letter of love including an appeal that we prayers, as she called us, would ask for her rest. Our prayers are answered, May she rest in peace.

In a sign of our daughter’s new life, we were blessed with an undeniable first sighting of Jocelyn’s nature to upend tradition and folly with a comical twist. If you open your service programs, you’ll notice that despite every effort by ourselves and the printer, she wants to make you laugh.

“I have no words,” so many of you said when you heard the news of Jocelyn’s death. Well, I have too many. Pardon me if I’ve edited this too tightly and left out the many joyful, loving elements of her character that you carry with you. Thankfully, Joanne has documented 50 treasured comments about Jocelyn in her version of the Rosary this morning. We’ll make these positive elements of our Josie available on the website that our children have made available.

Jocelyn once told me about funerals that it would be better if people spoke about a person’s failures and faults rather than just the fluffy “good” stuff. I am paraphrasing her more blunt take because few can speak with her captivating voice.

“I think we know what they were really like, dad. It’s not lying to be nice to them, but it is fake.” It’s a good point. Jocelyn seldom faked anything, and when she tried, we could tell. That’s probably why she hated fakery. She couldn’t pull off the counterfiet pose. She didn’t have to.

Jocelyn was the real deal. For instance, she didn’t tell jokes. She was just funny. Naturally confident. In no time, she’d be the center of attention but would get embarrassed and try to pawn the attention off to someone else. That reticence about self-aggrandizement was lovely about Jocelyn. She was an amazing artist but thought the admiration was misplaced. She excelled in most arenas: She could swim and read a novel at the same time, could throw a baseball harder than anyone in the family, and had wicked renovation skills whenever paint was involved.

I’ve always thought we get to watch from the beyond at our funerals — probably in horror — so my apologies, dear Jocelyn. I made a list of your character flaws. Some of the faux pas, anyway. There aren’t many. You have to look real close.

To begin with, she was a terrible liar. I’m not saying she didn’t lie. She just wasn’t very good at it. She smoked cigarettes in high school, and her cover-up was blaming her girlfriends for the packs we’d find in her book bags. “You looked through my things?” That was all she had. It was rather pathetic. I think she knew lying wasn’t her thing.

I’ve always found that adorable.

Almost everybody found Jocelyn’s independent, somewhat intimidating, but assuredly insistent personae both attractive and delightful. She could do things by herself because she didn’t need our help. We all got out of her way because Jocelyn did amazing things. How many times have you asked what Jocelyn was up to now? “You did what, where?” Hers was a long and fascinating road map of adventures from France to Taiwan to Ireland to Canada (the order isn’t correct, and the other locations escape me) and to that strange place called New York, and then back home to Manitou Springs. There were some faux pas along the way, but Jocelyn would light up if you could get her to tell you the stories.

She needed to be in control, especially when she was doing something … not unethical (she had no stomach for that—quite the opposite) … not life-threatening (well, not right away — paying the penalty later might be a good investment) … in control when she had something new to learn.

She was the undeniably oldest sibling, charting paths the others could then fearlessly take, setting high expectations about doing the “right thing.” She praised each of her sister’s accomplishments, fawning over Phd’s, business acumen, beauty, brilliant nieces and nephews, mothering skills she wished she had (“But I got Xander, and his fathering conquers all”) but struggled that her brother’s life didn’t include enough of her in it. “I love him too much,” she told me once.

She was philosophically and theologically obsessed, challenged bishops as a youngster, and spent 8 years to decide nobody really know anything. She loved the outer edges of ideas, where order needed to be challenged. But she did it playfully.

Her foundations were music from the They Might be Giants (genius goofballs), Feist and Sinead O’Connor (radicals of femininity), and up and coming country western singers. She introduced all of us to new artists that she listened to on replay over and over while she worked in her office.

At 21, she told us she liked smoking, and there was nothing we could do about it. Then quit. At 31, She told us she liked smoking again, and there was nothing we could do about it. She quit for awhile. Again at 41, she went through the same thing. “We can’d be saints all the time,” I told her. “Fair enough,” she admitted. Fair enough was Jocelyn’s way to say, OK, we’re done talking about that.

We had a good laugh at Jocelyn sometimes, but that was rare. We laughed with Jocelyn, not really at her. She was way too cool, truly, already two steps ahead of what we were thinking. She was an escape artist at accepting life advice, or listening to decorating ideas or fashion tips. She once made a set of patio furniture out of pallets. The boys raved about them. I praised her, and she said, “Don’t plan on me doing that again.”

She had a biting wit, precise, precious, and hilarious, and sometimes straight-up awful. She’d giggle, we’d giggle, then we’d laugh out loud until she would bend forward, and roar. The biting wit part was frightening, but the rest was worth the price of admission.

Jocelyn didn’t suffer fools, some would incorrectly assume. “Have you met my friends? My family?” she would crack, getting us all engaged in the joke. Then we would chip in with some group of people she knew and loved. Have you met my friends … such wonderful, ecclectic, frantic friends of Jocelyn. Then Zeke said “Have you met her dog?” We broke up, laughing even harder. And then Chi finished us all off with, “Have you met her refrigerator?”

Everybody knew Jocelyn would do what she wanted to do. She’d give you a look, you know? “I’ve made up my mind,” she’d say.

I had some other things on the list, but most of them aren’t character flaws at all.

Ah, She was not a gossip, because she had nice things to say about people. I’ve heard lovely words about almost all of you here. She certainly never said anything bad about Xander. “He puts up with me,” she has said, probably to everybody in this room.

You’ve heard of a man’s man? That’s Xander. They were a perfect match. Jocelyn was a woman’s woman. Women wanted to be like her, but she wasn’t someone you could copy.

Her memory was reliable and detailed. It usually surfaced when we (me) said something wrong. Her calculations in everything but math were spot on. She had a vocabulary that turned heads. She didn’t like to hear those compliments, though. Once, someone tried to game her into a grammar contest and she would have none of it. “I bet you know what a dipthong is!” “Yes,” Jocelyn said, articulating as she did every consonant when she talked. “A dipthong is a moron’s idea of a bathing suit.”

That joyous, insightful creature will never be matched. Everyone called her their friend, with good reason. Jocelyn was kind to all of us, even when we didn’t deserve it.

God bless you, my daughter in the next life. You’ve got lots of family members to meet up with, but I pray you’re able to hear how much all of us still here love you.

I had the pleasure of meeting her on Thanksgiving with all of my family.  I will always remember that.  Christine Jemmott Zander's aunt.