Ode: Visions of Johanna

Every wife comes with a mother-in-law. That’s a given. I got lucky there, with both. Aging is a given, as well, and time ignores us all.

My mother-in-law, Johanna, has vacated her chair, left the building, pulled up stakes, crossed the river, moved on. Just as the storm is rising.

Before giving up the ghost, she was strong as a horse and ate like one (other than cookies which she nibbled like a squirrel), until one day at age 96 she fell, as will we all, and suffered a compression fracture in her back. It hurt like hell. Morphine is merciful.

She was never the same. The fall hastened her physical and mental decline. Her daily walks outside — eyes forward, intently pushing her walker as if mowing the lawn before it rained — came to an end. Sentences tended toward nonsense.

I liked her a ton and don’t think she’d mind if I shared some “Visions of Johanna”.

Side note: “Visions of Johanna” is considered one of Bob Dylan’s best songs. I checked the lyrics and they seem to fit the Johanna I know (sorry, knew). I don’t believe she ever heard the song or met Dylan, and she never claimed to. She did, however, claim to know Vladimir Putin. She said he stayed with her family in Great Falls for awhile when she was young. He was rude to her mother, which Johanna didn’t like. Whenever Putin was on TV she’d sneer. Sometimes she’d say, “Pig. The man is a pig.” She thought many men were pigs. I didn’t argue.

It was several years after marrying her daughter when I came to realize there was more to Johanna than meets the eye. Beyond class, grace, and an old-world formality, she had spirit and spunk. You didn’t want to walk behind her, she could kick.

I overheard her on the phone one day, speaking to someone politely, quietly. She said goodbye and hung up and calmly said, “Up yours.” I was reading to Ruby at the time (probably Goodnight Moon or Jamberry) and when I heard it I laughed. Ruby looked at me wondering what was funny. I didn’t explain, just read on stifling myself.

She was born in Great Falls, Montana, December 15, 1929, six weeks after the stock market crash. Oldest of four siblings. Her parents came from Bulgaria — mother Penka, father an unspellable name sounding like Yuffcho.

She taught 2nd grade at Frenchtown Elementary for almost a quarter century. Raised three boys, two girls, several dogs, and had dinner on the table every night. Mission Impossible somehow accomplished, week after week.

She lived in Missoula most of her life before moving in with us in Portland in 2022. To make her comfortable, Susan ordered her a chair. I drove to Missoula to get it and jammed it into the Subaru, barely fitting, thus saving our marriage because Susan said in no uncertain terms don’t come back without it.

Johanna sat in it every day. In time, she quit asking why she no longer lived in Missoula.

Visions of Johanna

Getting an X-ray, the med tech asked Johanna, “What is your name?” She said, “728-1194.” Then he asked, “When is your birthday?” She spelled her last name. He said, “What is your birthdate?” She responded, “1929.” He paused, “Close enough.”

From her Daily Word, she read a bible verse out loud. I asked what chapter. She said, “Filipinos 4:13.”

She was sitting in her chair. I was on the couch. We were watching TV. She looked at me and said, “Excuse me, can I ask you a question? That clock says 6:15. Now, the number 6:15 is the time, correct? Am I responsible … to do anything … with that time? Is anybody noting it? Writing it down?” I got up and grabbed a pen and wrote down what she said.

While going out the door one day, I looked at her and waved. She smiled and said, “Thanks for leaving!”

Once, when Susan visited her mother in Memory Care, Johanna asked, “What do your parents think of you coming out here so much?” Susan said, “Well, you’re my parent, what do you think?” Johanna said, “I’m glad.”

In the hospital after her fall that broke her back she said, “I don’t want my parents to know about this.”

Random Johanna comment: “I don’t want children. And I don’t want adults.”

Spoken near the end (as noted by Susan):

I feel it coming.

Yes, I see it coming.

What the hell is it?

Why are you doing that?

How dare you?

God you don’t believe me.

Am I sitting in the right place?

Something else is standing.

It’s about to begin again.

There I see it coming at me now.

I was wondering about you worrying.

What are you doing down here?

That hurts! Stop, you son of a bitch!

I’ll cut you, I will beat you.

Well, that wasn’t too bad. That wasn’t bad at all.

You are my baby.

I can’t move my hand.

Freedom. Freedom now.

Favorite songs of Johanna:

“America the Beautiful” - Ray Charles
“Take Five” - Dave Brubeck Quartet
“If I Had A Hammer” - Trini Lopez
“The Darktown Strutters’ Ball” - Alberta Hunter

Last lines of “Visions of Johanna” by Bob Dylan:The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain

Johanna Bulman 12/15/29 - 3/3/26 (She had no middle name)