Norma Justine McGowen Honey
Norma Justine McGowen Honey

Obituary of Norma Justine McGowen Honey

Please share a memory of Norma Justine to include in a keepsake book for family and friends.
Norma Justine McGowen Honey exchanged this world for the next on February 3, 2021. Mrs. Honey died peacefully in her own bedroom of natural causes, surrounded by the fragrant paperwhite narcissus and roses she loved so much. Norma was born at home on April 18, 1938, to JC and Myrtle Rea McGowen in the Bonne Idee community outside Mer Rouge, LA. Her childhood on her parents’ cotton farm was extremely happy, with three generations of family, over a dozen cousins, and numerous relatives by marriage living within a hundred yards of each other; they and other nearby relatives and friends basically formed one huge family. Athletically and academically gifted, she excelled in basketball and graduated from Mer Rouge High in 1956, the same year she married John Lamar Honey. His family was involved in construction and with them Norma moved to various parts of the United States before she and Lamar settled in West Monroe, where she worked as switchboard operator at St. Francis Hospital for years and pursued further training at Louisiana Business College. The family moved to Bastrop in 1981 so that she could care for her aging parents. After her children were out of the home, Mrs. Honey sometimes worked small jobs to stay active, and managed the family farms her whole life. Frugal and shrewd by nature, she maintained the respect of all her business associates. A lifelong learner by choice, she always sought out the latest technology and combined it with the agricultural skills she had garnered as a girl while picking cotton on her parents’ farm. Mrs. Honey fought dementia for the last decade of her life, but even two weeks before her death she sounded like a sharp and savvy twenty-five year old when the topic turned to anything related to agriculture. Skilled as our mother was at business, her real calling was as a wife, daughter, sister, and mother. She took excellent care of her parents, even when the burdens of managing two households and raising two teenage boys almost overwhelmed her. Children learn from what they see, and the care she took of her elders during their illness even as she struggled with her grief guided us during her last years. She consistently supported her sons and daughters even as she must have wondered what on earth they were thinking when engaging in their latest round of nonsense. Mama and daddy never said “I told you so” because they never did. They let us make our own mistakes or successes and supported us along our paths, one of the greatest gifts for a child. Mama was an excellent gardener, great dancer, and unbelievable cook. She never forgot a birthday or special event, maintained relationships that stretched for almost eighty years, and was instantly on the phone with a congratulations or an offer to help during time of trouble. Norma Honey never thought her life was that remarkable, but she illustrated broader trends of Louisiana and American history. Born on a cotton farm at the end of the Great Depression, she was part of the 1950s and 60s migration pattern from the small farms of northeastern Louisiana to cities. As a child she played with an ancestor who had lived through the American Civil War, and at age 32 played with her infant son in front of the television as they watched the first men walk on the moon. In 2020 she played word games with that same son as a pandemic raged around the globe and our nation witnessed an historic election. Our mother lived through remarkable times, just as she was a remarkable woman. The family wants to be very clear that the loss our of our mother leaves a gigantic hole in our lives, a hole that nothing else will ever fill. On the other hand, it is a great comfort that our mother passed in exactly the way she wanted. She made her peace with God and family members, both asked for and offered forgiveness to people with whom she had had conflicts, was not in pain or frightened, enjoyed the last visits of family and friends, and was cared for in her last days by people who treasured her. One of our mother’s greatest fears was losing herself to dementia, and she passed before it stole her joy in life or her ability to recognize friends and family; to her very end she was hospitable, engaged in the world around her, and a great conversationalist. Our mother never lost her sense of humor, her joy at the success of others, her love of beauty, her sense of style, or her desire to put the needs of others above her own. While mourning the deaths of her husband (March 21, 2020), daughter (June 7, 2020) and other family members, she firmly believed she would see them again in the next world. There are far worse ways to step from this life to the next. Finally, in her closing days Mrs. Honey made sure that her children were comfortable in their relationship with God; all her children firmly believe they will see her again in the next world and look forward to that day. Mrs. Norma McGowen Honey is predeceased by her husband of 64 years, John Lamar Honey; her daughter, Wanda Kay Honey; and her brother, Jimmy White McGowen. She is survived by her son, Doctor John Daniel Honey; her son James Christopher Honey (Jessica) and granddaughter Amber Rayne; her daughter Nancy Honey Lee (Ricky) and grandsons Keith (Serina), Colby (Jill), and Matt (Suzanne). The family would like to thank various members of Kindred at Home and Premier Hospice for their help. Their attitude and desire to help our mother were wonderful, and we simply could not have managed without them. All Norma Honey’s children cared for her in some form, but Wanda Honey spent the better part of a decade looking after her parents as primary caregiver. The family also wants to thank Martha Lou Spurlock for her years of caring for our mother alongside Wanda. Though cousins, Martha Lou and Norma grew up as sisters, and their bond was unshakeable. A trained and skilled caregiver, Mrs. Spurlock also maintained the love and patience of a close relative. During our mother’s last days, the sound of Martha Lou’s voice brought an instant grin to “Normie’s” face. Given Mrs. Honey’s wishes and that the safety of our friends and family is paramount to us during this time of pandemic, we will not be having a funeral in the near future. Rather, when the pandemic has died down and people have been vaccinated, we would welcome everyone to a joint Celebration of Life for Norma McGowen Honey, Lamar Honey, and Wanda Honey. The family will send out another announcement when that time comes, likely in fall, 2021. Rather than sending flowers or donating to a charity, the family asks mourners to honor our mother’s life in a way keeping with what was important to her—call a friend you haven’t heard from in a long time, give flowers to someone you love (It’s too late when they’re dead), visit an older person and let them know they aren’t forgotten, read to a child and help them learn the beauty of the spoken and written words, hug someone you love and tell them that you love them, let your children know that you will treasure them no matter where their path leads, stop for a moment and appreciate the beauty of God’s creation, take a friend fishing, listen to someone who is working though some personal issues, enjoy some great music and think how lucky you are to have that moment. It’s a long list. Our mother appreciated the little things in life, because she knew they were the big things. It would honor her memory if you would do the same. Several weeks before Norma Honey passed, she and her son were discussing Julian of Norwich, the 14th century Christian mystic who was the first woman to write a book in the English language. Norma’s son mentioned one of his favorite passages from her writings and Mrs. Honey said “How beautiful. I like that.” We would like to end this obituary with that passage, and its message about what God promises us (and does not promise us): “He did not say 'Thou shalt not be tempested, thou shalt not be weary, thou shalt not be tormented.' But he said, 'Thou shalt not be overcome.’ ”
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Norma Justine