Jo Ann Owens
August 21, 1943 - October 12, 2022
FC Daehler Mortuary
On Wednesday, October 12, 2022, Jo Ann Owens, left this world, survived by her loving husband of 63 years, Paul Melvin Owens along with three adoring daughters, Vallerie Owens of Lexington, Kentucky, Vicki (Mark) Andronis of Lucasville, Ohio and Cristina Frost of Camden, Tennessee, a beloved brother, Lester (Pamela) Harris of Plymouth, Minnesota, 8 dearly loved grandchildren Stephenie (Josh) Hickenbottom, Dylan (Arishala) Stamper, Caleb Andronis, Andrew Andronis and Sophie Owens, 11 great-
grandchildren Carly, Tayva, Auryia, Renley, Mia, and Oaklan. Jo Ann attended Clay High School and held dear the life-long friendships made there to the final days of her life. She had many special cousins and friends that she often thought about.
She was preceded in death by her father, Lester Elsmere Harris, her mother, Beatrice Louise Warner, and 2 adored brothers, Robert Orville Harris and Paul Eugene Johnson.
Her memorial request was for those she cared for and loved and those that cared for and loved her to remember her in the way that was the life each shared with her.
In lieu of flowers, a donation can be made to SOMC Hospice Center in her name to honor her life and value the compassionate care team that assisted her with transitioning from this earthly world on her terms in dignity, grace, and love.
Although the love she gave infinitely remains, this world will be forever changed by her passing. And so it is.
She also leaves us with this poem...
Death Is Nothing At All
Henry Scott-HollandBy Henry Scott-Holland More Henry Scott-Holland
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!