Janet Hunt Wesson

JANET HUNT WESSON

April 29, 1935 – June 19, 2022

Janet Hunt Wesson crossed over to the other side on Sunday, June 19, 2022, and resides now in the beautiful City of God. She was 87-yrs-old. To capture her life story seems a task almost insurmountable, because the way she lived her days had so much to say to all who knew her.  Here are some of the highlights, written and ever remembered by her children.

She grew up in Garwood, Texas, the fourth of five children in a family of rice farmers and educators, alongside a deeply rooted family love. Although Garwood was a good long drive from Snyder, we always found a way to travel, as family was sacred. One of the members of the Hunt family called mom “the mover and shaker of the family and counselor to all of us.”

Mom played volleyball, basketball, and softball at Garwood High and graduated in 1953.  She attended Abilene Christian College and absolutely thrived there.  We all think it was the social life she loved more than academics.  She was a member and eventually president of the social club Ko Jo Kai at Abilene Christian College. In her last days, although she was especially weak, mom’s big brown eyes would light up when her neighbors, one of whom was her college partner in crime, would visit, and they relived their good ol’ college days.  Although mom had painted a picture-perfect saintly college life, we learned that perhaps in college, they may have gotten into a little bit of mischief.

Mom graduated from Abilene Christian in 1957 with a degree in psychology. Mom and dad married in 1958. And mom became equally as passionate about Dad’s side of the family and the frequent gatherings of the Wessons.

When we were not yet in elementary school, our family spent the summers of 1966 and 1967 in Tuscaloosa.  Dad took us on adventures, and mom ultimately completed her Master’s degree in counseling from University of Alabama, gaining her professional counseling licensure. Mom wasn’t the only one educated there.  We heard the civil rights marches, and the three of us began to question why someone would be treated as lesser than someone else.

As a longtime resident of Snyder, the bulk of her career was in Snyder ISD, as a volleyball coach and later as a counselor. Mom and Dad were both counselors, and with dad at Jr. High and mom at high school, we really couldn’t get away with much.  We were able to talk her into writing a an occasional tardy slip.  Although Dad offered life lessons in the way he lived, mom offered them both verbally and nonverbally, 24/7. So there was quite a lot of counseling going on at our house, most of the time unsolicited from the three of us.

We actually grew up in Mayberry, with the Watkins, Hartsfields, McCormicks, Floyds, Slo and Goof, on a street where we were in and out of each other’s houses and celebrated birthdays and the fourth of July.  We took vacations together, and only learned when we left home that the neighborhood was rather unique.

One of the things Jana remembers most is that whenever she began to complain about something, something just not so right in her life, mom stopped everything and directed Jana to write a lengthy list of her “many” blessings.  Jana remembers that her mom also so kindly accompanied this exercise while singing, “Count your Blessings, name them one by one, count your blessings, see what God has done.”

Jay reminded us how mom taught us kindness and challenged us to put others before ourselves.  There was never a reason to be mean-spirited.  She told us a story about a woman she saw daily at work, a person she didn’t even really know well, but one who never would return a greeting of “hello.”  Mom continued to speak to her every single day. Years later, surprisingly, the woman one day returned the greeting.  She and mom even began having conversations and eventually became very good friends.

Jay recounted, too, how  we had to learn to take some teasing.  We gave it right back to her, though. There was a lot of laughter in our home and mom loved playing jokes on others, even her own children.

If you spoke to her in the last several decades, you likely can name one or two of the revered nine grands who first called her Grammy Bear or Gram . It seems she was often on her way to one of their events, while, as one of her grands said,   “leading us with a resounding love of God.”

Gram was charter member of Eastside Church of Christ, the church mom so loved and attended almost every time the door was open, until she could no longer attend. She has a long history of service there. One of her favorite tasks was organizing Eastside’s annual hosting of University of Texas bicyclists, who were riding to fund raise for cancer research. For mom, servanthood was not resigned to a church setting.  So many visits from numerous students tell the story of mom’s influence and encouragement, and words given that make a difference in a life.

Jeff remembers how much mom talked a lot about heaven and loved the songs “Sing to Me of Heaven” and “When We All Get to Heaven.” She never felt like she had the beautiful voices of the Hunts were known for, but that didn’t matter so much, and she would belt out the songs anyway. Jeff recalls mom repeatedly telling him that her job in this life was to get him to heaven and to take as many others with them as possible. No doubt she is there now.

We thought we were going to lose mom in the late 1980s.  She was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy.  The doctor resigned her to go home and prepare to die.  But for some reason, she had the intuition or the holy spirit or some message that it was not her time to go. We all watched in awe as she read and researched and found a new doctor, one who encouraged her to fight through excruciating chemotherapy and pain.  This doctor became our family friend, visiting from the metroplex to check on mom, although he also found time to hunt with dad. We all feel so fortunate that mom lived a long and extraordinary life.

Mom had her rules, but sometimes she broke the rules. We just didn’t know about it ‘til later.  We were allowed to attend dances in high school, but we were not supposed to dance.  Why attend a dance if you can’t dance?  It was only years later that we learned dad was actually a master of the Jitterbug.

Our mom is preceded in death by most of her family of origin:  parents Raymond and Molly Hunt; siblings Dale Hunt and wife Shirley; Glenna Langford and husband Otto; Shirley Smith and husband Alton. She is survived by brother Bobby Hunt and wife Jean Ann, and a host of wonderful nieces and nephews.

Mom was preceded in death by her husband of 62 years, James Wesson.

She is survived by three children, eight grandchildren, and fourteen great-grandchildren.

Survivors include the following:

Daughter Jana Wesson-Martin and husband Ricky , their son Wes Martin and Kim Smith.  Jana and Rick’s youngest son Jed preceded Gram in death. Survivors include Jed’s wife Lindsey Denison Martin and their children Tober and Livi.

Son Jay Wesson and wife Deborah - daughter Kalli Wesson and Chuck Ware, their children Autumn, Emilie, Cadence; son JW and fiancé Mallorie Anderson; daughter Tayla Saylor and husband Hayden, their children JD and Payson.

Son Jeff Wesson and wife Holly - daughter Micah Mitchell and husband Brad, their children, Heidi, Halle, and Wyatt; daughter Jacey Dennard and husband Dex, their children, Deacon, Jaye, and Doak; son Craig Wesson and wife Kallie, their children Jolene and Carter Craig; son Cody Wesson and wife Kamryn.

Survivors include our lifelong friends and next-door neighbors Ila Ruth Newton and Barbara Sojourner, better known as “Slo” and “Goof.”

We send so many thanks to Karen Wadleigh for arranging most excellent homecare. These caretakers enriched mom’s days and loved her dearly : Susan Bills, Becky Clark, Polly Echols, Jodi Shifflett, Kim Smith, Shalawn Smith, Beth Johnson and Misty Johnson

Thank you all for listening. Thank you for loving us. Mom ever and always emphasized connections with others.  Really there was no distinction between family and friends, for everyone was family . She was never too busy to take a phone call or to open the door to anyone who knocked.

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