My bucket list is not only complete but also runneth over. My portrait of the Beloved Woman Who Shared My Name now hangs in the Wellstar School of Nursing at Kennesaw State University, where she received her degree at 45.
That’s correct. At a time when most of her friends were winding down, she was just getting wound up.
Some of you are familiar with her story, but as a personal privilege, may I share it again? We met in high school. She was a member of the National Honor Society and was voted “Most Dignified” by her high school classmates. I didn’t do anything noteworthy except graduate.
In one of the stereotypical cruelties of those times, I headed off to college unprepared and unqualified. She went to work as a secretary, as young women of that time were expected to do. It should have been the other way around.
We married, and I began my scramble up the corporate ladder while she concentrated on running an efficient household and raising our children as a stay-at-home mom. But something was missing: college. When we returned from a tour of duty in Washington courtesy of the Bell System, we were empty-nesters with two children in college — a son at Furman and a daughter at UGA.
That left Mom as the lone family member who had not enjoyed the college experience.
So, we decided it was time for her to go to college. And she did. And she succeeded. After 25 years away from the schoolbooks, she got a nursing degree from Kennesaw College, now Kennesaw State University, became a registered nurse, and enjoyed a rewarding career as an occupational nurse at Delta Air Lines.
Having two children in college was a snap. All they needed was money.
Having a wife in college was a different matter. I learned to operate the dishwasher and the clothes dryer and balance the checkbook. I learned to tippy-toe across hardwood floors without making a sound when she was studying algebra. Can I get some love here?
During her time at Kennesaw, our son graduated and was in the throes of breaking up with a longtime girlfriend. Trying to be helpful, Momma mentioned that one of her lab partners had just broken up with her boyfriend. Despite their age differences, they became good friends while cutting up dead stuff in lab class. I suppose you tend to get to know people pretty well when dissecting frogs together.
Only out of a profound sense of loyalty to her would our son even consider going out with someone his mother recommended, let alone someone who cut up deceased stuff with her.
But he agreed. But only for one date. And just as a favor to his mother.
The rest, as they say, is history. Momma’s former classmate is my daughter-in-law, Jackie, the mother of my grandchildren and the grandmother of four great-grandchildren. Not only did my wife get a superb education in the Kennesaw nursing program, but she also secured us a splendid daughter-in-law.
Some might think this story ended four years ago when the Beloved Woman Who Shared My Name passed away after a brief illness. But, in fact, it was just the beginning. Why not honor her legacy by allowing others to receive a nursing degree as she did?
Thus, the Jane J. Yarbrough Nursing Scholarship, to be awarded to nontraditional students seeking a career change and pursuing a Bachelor of Science in Nursing, was born. In addition, a Jane J. Yarbrough Fellowship has been established to allow faculty to examine ways to advance nursing education and conduct necessary research at KSU.
I hope the example of her determination to succeed will inspire others to enter a profession that is dedicated to doing good. Nursing can be highly stressful. It is not for everyone, but those who feel the calling know they are making a positive difference.
The icing on the cake was presenting my painting of the Beloved Woman Who Shared My Name to the Wellstar School at a special luncheon a couple of weeks ago. Her portrait will hang prominently in the school and remind future generations that you cannot only dream big dreams but also achieve them.
She did just that.
You can reach Dick Yarbrough atdick@dickyarbrough.com or at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, Ga. 31139.