Anne

We lost a giant of a woman.

My mother-in-law, Anne Hopf, passed away last Wednesday.

The word I'd use to describe Anne is "awe", and I mean that word in its original sense, of inspiring wonder, reverence and a little dread. She had a sharp tongue and strong opinions, had Anne, and she did not suffer fools at all, let alone gladly. If you didn't know her, and sometimes even if you did, she was beyond intimidating. 

But my God was she loved. And for good reason. Many good reasons. 

Anne was a highly successful tax accountant. (Her late husband, John -- another man who elicited widespread awe just by existing -- was a longtime caretaker of a cemetery: together, they were known as "Death and Taxes".) She was exceptionally good at her job because she took care of not just her clients' accountancy needs, but whatever else she could possibly help with. There are a lot of distraught people surrounding Campbellford, Ontario right now. 

That was one facet of the woman. There were many others. She lived in an overgrown doublewide trailer  on a farm with all manner of traditional "redneck" accoutrements scattered over the property -- and for many years she was an absolutely insatiable, omnivorous reader. She watched things like Pawn Stars on repeat, but could don elegance with ease. And holy hell don't you dare underestimate this woman. She cultivated that in both her kids, too. What a trait to have, and to pass on. 

At home, Anne threw herself into hobbies with a will, discarding them once she'd mastered them and picking up new ones. Her motto may as well have been "go big or go home".  At one point she had over 250 ducks, geese, swans, and chickens to go along with her five beloved wiener dogs. 

She was Mom to Eva and Jim, who were raised on resilience and drive. She was Gramma to Alexa and Lily, whom she loved deeply. She was "G.G." to little Emily, the granddaughter of her best friend Danielle. She was "Miss Anne" to Danielle's daughters Julia and Sarah, who are family.

And to her, I was "the invisible son-in-law". I never got to see her enough, which I regret mightily. 

From the first, I felt tested. I was not Eva's usual run of boyfriend and her folks didn't know what to make of me until they made out enough of me to see I loved their daughter very much. But even so, I felt under scrutiny there, and probably overtried not to offend.

The woman was blunt, memorably so. I recall being at the funeral of her mother, who was not religious and who did not want religion in her service. There was entirely too much religion in that service. Anne strode out of it at the end and with the finality of a coffin lid closing tinged with bitter graveyard dirt, she told us that if we predeceased her, "You won't get none of this crap. Crispy critters, then you're done." 

That she herself is now a crispy critter -- though not done, at least not in my belief system -- I feel quite sure would make her laugh. Anne's laughter was the sweetness behind her sternness. And while I never perceived the woman as anything close to touchy-feely....according to the many people mourning her in messages public and private, she gave the best hugs.

What comes out again and again in testimony about Anne Hopf is her utter dedication and devotion to the client -- or granddaughters -- in front of her. "Above and beyond" was the baseline in so many of her pursuits personal or professional. 

Eva can tell you stories, not all of them pretty. There was a time when "hate" might not have been too strong a word to apply to that relationship. But as everyone matured and mellowed, Eva and her mom grew into the best of friends. It's been a delight to watch that evolve. 

I feel like it's almost a cliche at this point, obligatory in eulogies, to mention the strength of the woman, but damnit, Anne was a rock. She endured physical pain I can't even comprehend and made it so as you'd never notice if you weren't attuned to it. She was fiercely independent, freethinking, and the most utterly unsentimental pragmatist I've ever met. I've come to appreciate that ruthless logic, which lives on in my wife, Anne's daughter. It's the polar opposite of my own run of thinking, but it has its uses and its place. 

There will be some form of memorial service at a future date. 

Rest in peace you've truly earned, Anne.