Forever and a Day: A Tribute to Jody

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for being here today. It means the world to us. We’re deeply touched by those who traveled from near and far—Boston, Texas, Denver, California, Florida, Salt Lake City, Jackson Hole, Portland, Maine—and of course, our many dear friends and family right here at home. Your presence is a beautiful tribute to Jody, and we’re so grateful you made the effort to be here with us.

I knew what Jody’s wishes were in the event of her passing, and she wanted lots of laughter and no tears. Well, sorry honey, but you’re going to get both.

Jody was one of the kindest souls you’d ever meet. We never argued—truly, not once. She didn’t have a harsh word for anyone. If someone was acting up or showing their flaws, she’d just smile and say, in that classic Southern way, “Bless her heart.”

Now, cooking… that was never Jody’s strong suit. When we were first married, she made Hamburger Helper for dinner five nights in a row. After that, I figured if I wanted to keep eating, I’d better learn to cook myself.

There was one Thanksgiving—I’ll never forget it—I left her in charge of the turkey while I ran a few errands. I told her, “Just add a little water to the pan.” When I got back and opened the oven door, there was the turkey floating like it was on a cruise—doing the backstroke across the roasting pan. It was a good thirty years before I let her near the bird again.

And when I finally did—just last year, in fact—she put the turkey in the pan upside down… and forgot to take the gizzards out. Bless her heart.

Jody had a gift for making people feel seen and cherished. She loved writing notes to her friends—the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper. Many of you here today have likely received one of those handwritten treasures. She’d write simply to remind you how special you were, and just how deeply you lived in her heart. Who does that anymore?

Jody and I left each other love notes all the time. In fact, she left me one just three days before she passed. There was never any question about how much she loved me, and no doubt about how much I loved her. We said it often, and more importantly, we showed it every day.

Especially Jody. Her quiet mission in life seemed to be: How can I make this day a little better for him? For others?

Jody loved to laugh. In fact, she always said it was my sense of humor that won her over. When we met in Orlando, our very first night together was spent in the pool, attempting—very poorly—synchronized swimming. We never took ourselves too seriously.

There’s been a sign hanging in our home since the early days of our marriage. It reads: Love is being stupid together. And that pretty much sums us up. We laughed—a lot.

Now, one thing Jody definitely wasn’t was an exerciser. Her idea of a workout was a good day of shopping. I remember one afternoon in Texas, we were flying a kite and it slipped out of Austin’s hands. I shouted, “Run, Jody, run!” She didn’t move an inch. We all just burst out laughing and watched that kite sail away.

Jody loved hearts. They’re everywhere in our home—in every size, every shape, every style. And now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see a heart without thinking of her. Hearts meant love to Jody. And Jody was love. So whenever you spot one, take it as a little hello from her—a quiet reminder that she’s still sending you love.

We were together for 37 years, and I always hated being apart from her. Once, she was invited to Hawaii with her friends, Alice and Lynell. I had to stay behind for work. But then—by some miracle—the gig got cancelled. I didn’t think twice. I booked the first flight I could.

When I told her I was coming, she texted back, “Are you sure you want to come this far for just a few days?” And I replied, “Oh baby, I’d fly to the moon and back just to spend five minutes with you.”

Jody left an indelible mark on everyone who had the joy of knowing her. Since her passing, I’ve been overwhelmed, humbled—even awestruck—by the outpouring of love, not just from close friends and family, but from people who only knew her in passing. The words I’ve heard over and over again paint the same beautiful picture:

• Jody was such a light. She lit up every room she entered. She sparkled.
• I’ll never forget that smile—she was always smiling.
• She was beautiful, inside and out. You could see it in the way she loved Austin, Brittany, and that sweet grandbaby. You could feel it in her deep faith.
• She was an absolute blessing, a treasure of a friend.
• Watching the two of you together was something special. That was real love—visible to anyone.
• I don’t know anyone who found more joy just in being together than you and Jody.

Hearing these words has reminded me of what I already knew: Jody lived her life with an open heart, a radiant spirit, and a love that touched everyone around her. She truly was—and always will be—one of a kind, a precious gift. A pearl of great price.

Our love for each other will never fade. Love is what endures—it’s what matters most in the end. Truly, love is all there is.

For those of you who were lucky enough to love Jody and be loved by her, keep her close. Say her name. Talk to her. Laugh with her. Pray for her. She’s still listening. Still loving. Still with us.

Goodbye for now, baby. I can’t wait to love you in eternity. I love you forever and a day.

Love you all