Profile: Marian Jones (aka "Grandma Jones")

Marian Lord Jones turned 78 years old 20 days ago on the 4th of July. A few years back, she had a computer-like contraption that gave her email access but nothing else. Other than that, she’s rarely on a computer anymore, never online, and certainly never reading this blog.

Since she’ll probably never read this, I can briefly mention snakes: she’s afraid of snakes. This isn’t an “Oh, she’s afraid of snakes, huh? Watch this…” kind of fear. This is a “No, she really is afraid of them. Don’t even joke about it” kind of fear.

I don’t have space to explain why, so for now just know that she is. Just sayin’…

How I met Marian Jones

She met me before I met her. I assume she was around when I was born, but I don’t remember. I’ve just seen the pictures of her holding me.

Update: After reading this, my mom filled me in a little more:

“Grandma Jones drove all the way down from Santa Maria [to San Diego, CA], ran up the stairs to the condo, knocked on the door and said (without even saying hello), “Where’s the baby? Let me see the baby.” It was absolutely the most exciting time for our family… you were the first grandbaby on every side.”

Who Marian Jones is

  • Retiree
  • My father’s mother
  • My grandma

What Marian Jones likes

  • Thrift stores
  • Saving things and, as a result, collecting things
  • Strong coffee all day

One fact about Marian Jones

Grandma was born and raised in the Philippines. Her father was American, but her mother was half Filipino. In World War II, since Grandma was the most Filipino-looking of her sisters, she would slip food and other supplies to her father and other soldiers who were captured.

That experience shaped how she views life, including her fear of snakes and love of saving things.

One reason I like Marian Jones

Her food. She’s ridiculous with this, actually. You can’t visit her house without her feeding you. A lot. And if you invite her over, she’s probably bringing something. Seriously, I’m about half finished with my plate, and she’s already encouraging me to eat more. So I eat more. After my – what? – fourth plate, she’s still insisting I eat more.

Not a bad thing – it certainly comes from a giving heart. Just be warned. :>)

One memory I have of Marian Jones

My family vacationed in California one year. For part of the trip, my dad planned to attend a pastor’s conference, but we set it up so we could spend extra time with friends and family.

That didn’t happen.

Instead, in Barstow, California where Grandma lived at the time, my dad got chickenpox. He never made it to the conference. He stayed at Grandma’s apartment while my brothers and I went splashing in the public pool. We didn’t know how to swim, so we spent most of the time in the kiddie pool.

For those not familiar with Barstow, it’s in the middle of Death Valley, the lowest and hottest place in the U.S.

Pop was slightly more than slightly miserable, but my brothers and I enjoyed the stay. We loved swimming, feeling the 100 degree (F.) heat at sunset, and drinking Squirt for the first time (my grandma always has soft drinks even though she never drinks them). A few of us even got stung by fire ants.

Overall, it wasn’t the first time I remember being with Grandma Jones – I remember her from when I was much younger – but that trip was the first time I really remember much about her.

Marian Jones in one word

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