Steel magnolias

Thank goodness my mother was a saver. And not just those ubiquitous plastic margarine tubs, Ziplock bags and, well, actual money — after all, this is the woman who shamelessly tucked envelopes of garage sale profits inside her favorite designer jackets. Her “mad money,” as she called it.

Luckily, she told her three daughters about the secret stash of closet cash before she died.

Even 15 years later since she passed on this day in 2008, Mom still manages to surprise me.

As Daughter #3, I knew my mother had kept mementos of me: a lock of hair, old baby shoes and all of my K-12 report cards. Much to my delight, she also saved the brown scrapbook filled with clips of every story I had ever written for my high school newspaper.

Cousino High School’s Sentinel publication gave a voice to this painfully shy 10th grader, forced by her parents to move uptown from Detroit’s east side to that far away suburb north of 8 Mile called Warren.

Poor child. I hated it. Changing schools. Not knowing a soul. Having my own space in most of the nicely finished basement, including a TV. Rough times in the late ’70s, kid.

But I found refuge in Mr. Tocco’s journalism class, working on the school newspaper. I overcame most of my inhibitions, made new friends, and learned to ask strangers questions and write stories others wanted to read. Who knew it would turn into a 40-year career?

The other day I discovered the scrapbook at the bottom of a beat up blue Rubbermaid bin tucked away in our basement labeled “JJ’s Old Photos/Yearbooks & Stuff.”

About halfway into flipping through it, I found what I was looking for: an entire 8.5 by 14-inch page devoted to photos, keepsakes and a tiny green booklet titled “Rosalynn Carter” in white letters. My “official” Carter-Mondale Campaign press pass was glued to the page with the frayed string still attached.

At 16, I had the honor and privilege of meeting Mrs. Jimmy Carter, as she was more properly known then, when she visited southeastern Michigan during her husband’s first campaign for president. It was September 30, 1976, which just so happened to be my mother’s 56th birthday.

Now, nearly 50 years later, I can still recall Rosalynn Carter’s warmth and kindness as she held a press conference for a bunch of geeky teen-age “journalists” who were positively giddy to meet the actual spouse of an actual presidential candidate.

Aside: There was no clipping of the news story, so I’ll assume my mother didn’t save it because there was no “By Jinny John” byline on it. Ah, a mother’s unwavering devotion.

The story was likely written by editor Ken Prestininzi, who became a playwright, I think. Or Paula Patyk, an accomplished writer and Mrs. Brouwer’s second favorite. Or Donna J. Ross, a record executive and helluva shortstop.

Anyway, about two months later James Earl Carter Jr. would be elected the 39th president of the United States. A Democrat, the former peanut farmer and governor of Georgia defeated incumbent Republican President Gerald Ford in a narrow victory.

In 1990, Carter lost to another Republican in a landslide. His name? Ronald Reagan.

Eleanor Rosalynn Carter died on November 19, in Plains, Georgia. She was 96. Living with dementia, she had suffered months of declining health. A mental health activist and humanitarian, the former first lady advocated for women’s rights and spent her life in service to others.

She and Jimmy were married for 77 years. Each was the love of the other’s life. They had four children, along with 22 grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

The former president, now 99, attended Tuesday’s memorial service, despite being in hospice care himself since February. He made the 140-mile trip to Atlanta from Plains to Glenn Memorial United Methodist Church at Emory University. He even had to buy a new suit because none of his fit.

Along with President Joe Biden and former President Bill Clinton, every living first lady attended the service: Dr. Jill Biden, Melania Trump, Michelle Obama, Hillary Clinton and Laura Bush.

In 1987, Mrs. Carter founded the Rosalynn Carter Institute for Caregivers, which is committed to creating a more caring society to support the needs of caregivers. They say she put the concept of caregiving on the map.

Not surprising that she was so dedicated to families navigating the burdens and rewards of caring for those who are aging, ill or disabled. As someone who has been a caregiver and also the recipient of care, I have always admired her work and tireless devotion to helping others.

Those who knew her called Rosalynn Carter “a steel magnolia.” I looked it up, since I’m from the Midwest and wasn’t sure of the meaning.

A steel magnolia is defined as a woman who exemplifies both traditional femininity and an uncommon fortitude.

Someone with grace, dignity, wisdom and strength.

Someone as delicate as magnolias but tough as steel.

Sounds a lot like my mother, too.

May they both rest in power.