Life Sketch
Jeryl Kara Moore Harford died of complications resulting from cancer on the morning of August 8th 2009. She was survived by two sons, David Earl Harford and Kevin Bryan Moore, her twin sister Janice Karla Fangboner, her older sister Marcia Karen Moore, and older brother Rodney Karston Moore. She was also survived by nine grandchildren listed oldest to youngest: Mariah Harford, Austin Locker, Jason Harford, Nathan Moore, Chayse Harford, Katie Moore, Ian Harford, Kezia Moore, and Haley Rae Harford.
In summary, Mom was born on the heels of her twin sister, Janice, on July 19th, 1947 at Women’s Hospital in Detroit, Michigan. She was the youngest sibling preceded by her twin sister, an older sister, Marcia, and the oldest, a brother, Rod. Within the first few months of her life, by way of comparison, it was realized by her parents, Rolland and Margaret Moore, she was not developing as quickly as Jan. Upon examination, and to their amazement, the doctors discovered she was born without a thyroid gland; unfortunately this discovery came too late to prevent some minor brain damage. As a result, Mom would never function mentally beyond the capacity of someone in their early to mid teens. This posed an extreme challenge for her as she went through school and the rest of her life. She struggled through special education classes, but did graduate from Southfield High School in 1967 with a certificate of completion.
After high school, Mom found work in the Cafeteria at Providence Hospital in Southfield where she still lived with her parents and older sister, Marcia. This job set the standard for her as she spent most of her working life as a dishwasher or some other form of menial kitchen laborer. In a few short years she met and fell in love with David Michael Harford. They married and in 1976 their first son, David Earl Harford, was born. A year later came their second son, Kevin Bryan Harford. Sadly complications which could not be resolved brought an end to their marriage. David was awarded custody of David Jr. and Mom got custody of me; we then returned to live with her parents and older sister.
In 1983 we moved to Boyne City in northern Michigan where her parents wanted to retire. She raised me there through my high school graduation and came to Utah to see me married in 2000, the same year her father died. Four years later her mother died and Mom and Marcia decided to move to Utah to be closer to their grandchildren. They’ve spent the last five years here in Spanish Fork where Mom has worked at Deseret Industries, Arby’s, and Wendy’s. This concludes the abridged volume of Mom’s biography. I’ve kept it concise because I’d like to spend the larger portion of my time talking about the things that made Mom who she was.
While Mom was not a scholar, there were many things in which she excelled. For example, the best developed word processors, thesauri, dictionaries, and writing reference guides were no match for my Mom. She could correct your spelling and grammar almost without a thought and if she did have to look it up, it would be the only time she’d have to look it up. While you wouldn’t know it to look at her bedroom, she was one of the best housekeepers on the North American Continent. She didn’t always enjoy doing it, but when she did it, she did it right. Mom was also an exceptional dishwasher. I have yet to find her equal. In fact, she had developed somewhat of a reputation amongst the local restaurants in the Boyne City area. It could be very difficult to teach Mom a new task and the more complicated the task, the harder it was for her to learn, but once she did learn it, she developed it to perfection. Her methods may not always make sense to the observer, but they worked for her and she was meticulous about achieving her desired end result.
This is probably what made her such an excellent steward to her fellow man. Even though her given middle name was Kara, I’ve often thought it should be compassion. If someone was sick or hurt, she was right there to offer comfort and support and serve in any way she was capable. I was raised by four parents, but if I skinned my knee or had the flu, my Mom was my world. There came a point, however, she took this to the extreme. For some reason she developed an infatuation with medical soap operas and T.V. shows. This soon developed into an obsession with anything medical. Her room slowly transformed into a storehouse of Prevention magazine, pill identification books, and, for reasons still unknown, an endless supply of empty pill bottles. I remember top secret phone calls to her doctor’s office which would last for hours preceded by a review of her memo pad full of questions and concerns she intended to address. Thinking back I have to wonder how many fled the country, or at least our area code!
One specific such call occurred while Robyn and I were visiting her in Michigan one winter. We decided it would be fun to go sledding and invited her to join us. She said she’d like to go, but wanted to call her dr. first to see if she thought it was a good idea or not. A couple hours later we all went sledding and her doctor went to the psych ward. I’ve heard she’s much better now, but her eye still twitches when the phone rings. Compassion, though, was definitely one of Mom’s mastery points. I still hear stories from some of her local friends and ward members of acts of kindness and service.
All of this said, with as many good traits as Mom possessed, she wasn’t always a perfect saint. She had a stubborn streak, which likely originated from grandpa, as well as a well oiled temper. With her limited comprehension came a few childlike qualities. Mom was always fun to play games with…until she lost. She enjoyed playing board games with me as a child until I got old enough to start beating her most of the time. Once this happened our games usually ended with her pouting in her room. I soon learned for extended play time, I had to let her win more than lose. Sometimes it was more fun to make her mad, however, because she would then start ranting to herself under her breath which, at times, could be more amusing than the game was in the first place. It gets worse. She had a pure evil streak which some might consider a lethal weapon. Mom was fun to tease if you knew when to stop, but this could be a dangerous ploy. Every now and then, usually when least expected, she would blindside you with razor sharp rapier wit. She’d hit you fast and hard and leave you lying on the ground in a puddle of your own duh without a hint of remorse on her grinning face. If you didn’t know when to stop, it often produced the same result as winning too many board games. She’d storm off, ranting to herself under her breath, to pout in her room.
Childlike qualities are not a bad thing. I believe it was these which made her such a superb nursery teacher. She loved working with the children and they adored her. I did not personally get to witness this, but I have seen how much my own children love her. How many grandmothers would get on the floor and play cars with their grandkids? My kids’ grandma did. As an added bonus, it wasn’t a game she could lose at! She also loved the primary hymns. I often envy Mom, because she got to be a kid for 62 years. The result of her missing thyroid gland may have presented her a great deal of challenges throughout her life, but it also gave her the greatest gift. She never had to grow up.
One of the things I loved the most about Mom was her ability to find joy in the simplest things. Her favorite color was red and you could almost always count on her wearing something red, or pink, even if it was in complete contrast with the rest of her outfit. Whenever we would go on a family vacation, she would load up on souvenir trinkets and when they would finally break, she would glue or tape them back together to get a few more months enjoyment out of them. A couple days ago Marcia and I were going through her jewelry box. Sifting through the menagerie of plastic bead necklaces, pins and buttons of every kind for every holiday, and even some things that were inexpensive but still delicate and beautiful, brought back many fond memories and even a few giggles and laughs. For instance, on any given St. Patrick’s Day you would find Mom decked out in head to toe green, if there was any way she could do it. Green socks, a green tee-shirt with leprechaun or giant shamrock on it, green earrings, pins, buttons, and any other form of holiday paraphernalia that would catch her eye and rest assured she would catch everyone else’s eye! It was quirky and, at times, embarrassing, but it sure made people smile, especially her.
Another one of her simple pleasures was playing show and tell after a shopping trip. She would get so excited to show you all of her new stuff. Don’t worry, though, if you didn’t show interest she would be content to walk away ranting to herself and pout in her room. Mom also took a great deal of joy in going to get the mail. This became a point of fun for the rest of the family on Sundays and holidays. “Mom, you gonna get the mail today?” Then we’d take bets on how far down the driveway she’d get before she realized the mail didn’t come that day! The look on her face when she opened an empty mail box and the realization hit her was priceless! Then she’d get that “Alright wise-guy!” expression on her face while we all chuckled in the window. She was a good sport, but then we didn’t leave her much choice. Instances like that would often draw from her mouth the phrase, “With friends like you guys, who needs enemies!”
There came a time when Mom decided to implement a regular exercise regimen of walking down to the end of our road and back, about a mile start to finish. Every once in a while she’d let me tag along if I could keep up with her which was, believe it or not, no easy task. She took her walking seriously. Even in the winter time she would go on her daily walk as long as the snow wasn’t blowing too hard. I remember one such occasion was on a snow day. The snow had drifted across the road three to four feet deep in many places, but on foot you could find your way around them. It being a sunny day, we embarked on the journey. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but on the home stretch I managed to set foot in a drift which had filled a ditch. The next thing I knew I was looking up out of the drift I had sunk into as deep as the top of my head…and Mom kept walking… I had to call for her a couple of times before she turned around and did a double take at seeing my predicament. She pulled me out and we shared a laugh and continued home for some hot chocolate. I don’t know if Mom really walked for the exercise or because she just enjoyed getting out for an hour, but she seldom missed the opportunity.
Heading in a random direction, eating with Mom could be a unique experience. Everything set before her had to arranged a specific way. Sometimes I’d rearrange something when she got up to get something and the result was usually comical. She’d get that same “Alright wise guy” look on her face, slap my arm, and say “Kevin! Cut that out!” She was always careful to bless every meal, even snacks. This posed a problem for me at breakfast before school. I’ve never been much of a morning person and Mom liked to give very thorough blessings, she took eating seriously too, so I would usually end up getting another fifteen or twenty minutes of sleep before I heard the word amen and sat groggily to eat my now cold oatmeal. I spent many mornings watching Mom sprinkle sugar on her cereal being very careful to cover everything in her bowl. It was always fun to point and say, “You missed a spot.”
There are so many more things I could say about Mom. Despite her challenges in life, she managed to teach me the importance of prayer, kindness, forgiveness, virtue, obedience, and so much more. Robyn points out many of her traits that surface in me and I see many of them surface in my children. Though she was often misunderstood, she played a crucial role in many lives. God had a specific purpose for her and she did her best to fulfill it. We love her and will miss her deeply, but we are happy for the joy she is experiencing on the other side.
During the last four days of Mom’s life, I’ve spent a lot of time pondering and reflecting. My heart ached for her as she lay in her hospital bed moaning in pain after the nurses had already given her all the Morphine she could have. As exhausted as I was, I could not bring myself to sleep while she lay there in agony and nothing could be done make her more comfortable. I remember praying to Heavenly Father that He would not prolong her suffering. I remember the prophetic words of my five year old daughter, “We have four more nights with grandma, Mommy, just four more nights.” I remember laboring over all of the factors that went into the decision whether to bring her home yet or not. Even though I had already made the decision to do it, Mom set it in concrete for me when she asked Wednesday night if she was going home. I told her she would the next day and I could see the disappointment in her eyes. I knew it was time. She did, through it all, keep her sense of humor. The medications made her mouth very dry, so she needed a lot of water. Her tray was a little too far away for her to reach and the family members in the room didn’t hear her ask for her water. The next thing we knew she was reaching toward the tray saying, “Come to me.” The night before she came home, my dad was visiting her in the hospital. She was trying to get his attention so he’d give her some water.
Finally, she reached over and smacked his belly saying, “Hey fat guy!”
I remember how peaceful she became once all of her family members were there. My son had asked her in the hospital, “Grandma if you could have one wish, what would it be?” Her answer was not delayed, “To have all my family here.” Friday night she was hanging on. I knew she didn’t want us to be saddened by her departure and every now and then I could see a look of confusion and indecision flash across her face. After everyone left for the night her struggle worsened and I could tell she knew it was time, but was afraid to let go. We called everyone back to give her a final blessing of release. She waited till everyone had gone again and I think she still wasn’t sure, but she was working so hard to stay with us. I took her hand, leaned in close and told her it’s ok, Mom, you can go where you need to go. That was all she needed to hear. Aside from watching my children come into this world, this is one of the most sacred experiences I’ve ever had and I feel blessed to have been part of it hard as it may have been.
I know God loves her and was happy to bring her home. I know her parents greeted her with tears of joy. I know she is not in pain and is doing God’s work with all of her faculties. I also know if I live worthily I will see her again when my time here is through. On earth my Mom was an angel in the flesh and now she shines in the heavens. Through all of the pain, grief, and trials of the past few weeks, seeing her at peace, has put me at peace. While we’ll mourn her loss, we should also take joy in the beauty of her life. She lives on in our hearts, in our minds, in our stories, and in her posterity. God be with you till we meet again, Mom. In Jesus’ name, amen.
