Celebration – Jayne Keating

We held a small ceremony with friends and family on Saturday, September 10, 2022 in Tim and Jayne’s back yard in Coupeville, WA. For those that were unable to attend, we have included some words spoken by family and friends during that event.

It’s worth noting that Jayne always loved gatherings like this with good friends, good food and drink and good music. Laughter and humor were always a big part of these gatherings as well, and this event was no exception.

A playlist of some of Jayne’s favorite songs was playing in the background as the day progressed, and at one point, the old Olympic theme song from NBC Sports inexplicably started playing at at a substantial volume. Tim would go on to explain this music choice in his opening words.

Tim Keating: Jayne had a good sense of humor, as the playing of the Olympic Theme suggests. (It was her request.) She possessed a powerful sense of irony. For example, after one of the many visits to the emergency room, one of the doctors warned her that she would be seeing a lot of “ologists,” and she did: cardiologist, pulmonologist, rheumatologist, gastroenterologist, electrophysiologist. But she said to me: “I don’t know about all these “ologists.” I wake up in the morning feeling so awful, and I look in the mirror, and the only “ologist” I want to see is the cosmetologist.“

On behalf of family here I want to thank all of you for coming to this “Remorial” for Jayne and for your constant support throughout the last couple of years of Jayne’s life. Those gifts, gestures of kindness and love had a profound effect on Jayne and were important elements in our support and care. So thank you.

Jayne had a very active and productive professional life. Summary of some of Jayne’s achievements throughout her life:

Ballet as a child and young woman.
Girls’ State (California) then selected to go to Girls’ Nation (Washington, DC) where she met then President Kennedy in the Rose Garden.
Homecoming Queen at Gonzaga U. (1965)
Two Schools of Ballet: over 125 dancers at Susquehanna School of Ballet.

Full length ballets:

Peter and the Wolf
2 Cinderellas
Brahms and Saint-Saens
Carnival of the Animals
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Jeux d’Enfants
Hansel and Gretel (twice)
Anniversary Waltzes
Song of the Iron Horse
Holberg Suite
Le Petite Prince
The Dance Project

Some of these ballets you may never have heard of. That’s because Jayne created them. All of the choreography was original, and she had a skill in making her dancers look
good. I know that well, since she had me dance with her at the opening of Anniversary Waltzes.

She also did choreography for regional theater productions:

Man of La Mancha
Fiddler on the Roof
South Pacific
Damn Yankees
Amahl and the Night Visitors
Oklahoma
Cabaret

Jayne essentially recreated her career as a ballet teacher and artistic director after having stopped dancing for 10 years. Studied flamenco in Spain, at first in Madrid, then later a Paco Peña summer workshop in Córdoba. Here is an excerpt from her journal at the time.

Professional accomplishments aside, perhaps her greatest achievement was her family, daughter and son Ruth and Jake.

– Tim Keating, Coupeville, September 10 2022

Jake Keating: I’ve given up trying to sum up what Jayne meant to me as a mother and as a friend, so I’ll touch on two of her many superpowers that I think everyone here will be familiar with. One is her genuine interest and concern for others instead of herself and the second is her ability to create something out of nothing through her sheer force of will.

This is tough to talk about, but towards the end, Jayne specifically expressed to us, in these words, “I don’t want to be remembered like this”. She had lost many aspects of herself both physically and emotionally and she felt she was no longer the person she used to be. But the tough part for us was that, after she was gone, she actually got her wish…and the balance of her life, apart from those few tough months and years, came rushing in to fill the void through memories, stories, journal entries, letters and photographs of all of the good times. That very short rough patch at the end of her life couldn’t hold really back the ridiculously immense effect she had on people during the good years. It made it harder after she was gone. It’s still making it harder. We don’t remember her like that.

But despite her wishes, it’s important for everyone to know that in those later days she still had those 2 superpowers. The first one, her genuine concern for others – even when things were really bad – was 1000% there. Tim and Ruth will have dozens of stories similar to this but imagine Jayne, very ill, couldn’t get a good night’s sleep, had a tough time getting enough nourishment down, couldn’t get comfortable or even breathe right at times…BUT…when you would go over to her bedside to check on her in the morning, 9 times out of 10 the first words out of her mouth were something to the effect of “Hey, tell me everything you’re up to” with a big smile on her face. Or, “are you getting enough sleep?” or, ”You know, I really want you and Tim to go down to Toby’s and get some mussels and a beer, that would make me so happy”. This was not unique to her immediate family members or just motherly love. People here who visited her would get the same treatment: utter concern, curiosity and interest in other people other than herself. Despite everything, she was the same person at the end, even though she felt she was not.

The second one, her willpower and ability to create something out of nothing, was 1000% there as well. Even when the doctors made it clear that she could forget about walking under her own power let alone taking a walk around the block, she would repeatedly comment to us later on how she “just needed to get down to the kitchen and make some bread and move around a bit”….”just needed to do a barre and get back to walking Jinty”. That willpower wasn’t delusional and we wouldn’t trivialize it. It was more like seeing Babe Ruth calling out a home run. There was absolutely no reason to think she couldn’t do what she said she was going to do after so many years of doing exactly that. And after so many years of surprising her doctors using her own willpower, discipline and optimism to manage a condition that would have beaten down other people much sooner.

So for anyone who came in contact with Jayne in the good old days, these two attitudes combined to be an absolute force of nature. You would have a conversation with Jayne and instead of her telling you about her own accomplishments and dreams (which were substantial) she would instead want to get into whatever you were interested in. What made you tick. She would get genuinely excited about whatever it was you were talking about and start to reflect it back with her own wisdom and perspective. She would quickly become a partner in crime on whatever hair-brained scheme you were considering whether it was a new job, a life change, a dream, a problem that needed a creative solution. You would come out of conversations with Jayne feeling strangely positive and optimistic that anything was possible. And that’s when her second attitude of willpower and creation would kick in…showing by example. How difficult is it to create? To make something out of nothing? Jayne made it look easy. You want to write a book? You put pen to paper and write. You want to create a fully-formed performance for the stage? You put your ear to the music and create it. You want to work with animals? You go become a certified veterinary technician and make it happen (which she actually did). You want to learn a new language? Move to a different country? Reinvent yourself? Start a ballet school (or several)?

Everyone here has had similar experiences with Jayne but as one of her offspring I feel lucky and almost sheepishly guilty to have had such unfettered access to both Tim and Jayne as role models and guides for life. Among the million lessons she has left us I hope we all continue to honor her and come back to those two guideposts the most: Always try to put others before yourself and don’t be afraid to get out there, create and make life happen…Jayne certainly did for herself and for the people she loved. Thank you, Jayne. We miss you.

– Jake Keating, Coupeville, September 10 2022

Ruth Keating Lockwood: I’m six years old and in a pre ballet class with maybe 10 other girls my age. We are absorbed in a game that requires jumping over a wide river filled with snapping crocodiles. Miss Jayne is shouting encouragement and urging everyone to jump higher and further. She’s beautiful, in the way that a ballet teacher is- strong, tall, dressed in spotless class attire, but it’s her imagination, her willingness to get on the floor with us and become an animal, or leap across a river, or stretch up like a tree, that is what captivates us.

I’m twelve and in the back seat of the Datsun 210 with my brother Jake. We’re somewhere near Bryce Canyon – or is it Salt Lake? Anyway it’s hot, and the Datsun only has what my father calls “460 air conditioning”, which is to roll down all four windows and go 60 mph. The backseat is hot, sticky and loud with the argument that Jake and I are in the middle of. Our mother turns around to look at us. “You know what I love about you guys?” she asks, and I guess because we’re shocked that we’re not being yelled at, we stop beating on each other long enough to hear the answer to this question. “It’s that you two are always able to work out your problems and you really are good friends deep down.” Jake and I remove our hands from each other’s necks, each of us thinking- “Yeah! We are pretty good at working it out!”

I’m 40 and my family is going on a summer trip to Maryland to visit Naynie and Babbo. They live in a big, beautiful house in the woods. Silas and Eli are excited- because they know they’re going to show up to a house with a fridge stocked with all their favorite foods (and special ones they can only get from Naynie, like chocolate covered bananas). There will be some new pool toys, there will be video games and lawn darts and bikes and sparklers and they’ll get to stay up late. Naynie is a blast- she is always ready to build forts out of couch cushions, ready to do “sunny dives” in the pool, ready to play a game she and the boys call “Clay” which is where one person “molds” the other into silly positions. Naynie is writing a book that is populated with characters that Silas and Eli have inspired with their drawings and stories, called “Jongu and The Crystal Tiger”. In the mornings, the boys will come downstairs to a big breakfast and Naynie will ask them to tell her their dreams, and she’ll listen, and ask questions.

She’s the heart of the party, the luminous center. She draws children around her, of course- but also the adults who can see that she’s still got the imagination and humor and lightness of a child in her. She really sees people, and you know this because she wrote you a letter with a fountain pen on nice paper that expresses her appreciation for who you are. Or maybe she’s in the middle of making dinner in the kitchen and she’s got you by both shoulders and is looking at you in the face and smiling, maybe singing a silly made up song, just happy to be with you.

Jayne had a connection with children and an appreciation for them that was a through line in her life. She respected them and their ideas, she treated children not like people in training but as individuals. Her respect and understanding of a child’s imagination was a catalyst for her professional life as an educator and as an artist, and especially as a parent and grandparent. Of course we feel lost without her. But we also know what to do because she taught us, by words and example.

– Ruth Keating Lockwood, Coupeville, September 10 2022

Patrick Keating: Good afternoon. I am Patrick Keating, brother to Tim, uncle to Ruth and Jacob, grand-uncle to Silas and Eli, and spiritual brother to Jayne Stefani Keating. I have a couple of stories to share, and then I like to read a poem in honor of Jayne.

I was there! When Harry Met Sally. When Tim First Met Jayne.

It was 1965. 57 years ago. Tim and I had just transferred as sophomores to Gonzaga in Spokane. He from St. Louis University and me from Elgin Community College in Elgin, Illinois.

We were on our way to the Student Union for our first evening meal on campus. Jayne was at the entrance taking the meal tickets as students entered. Tim was behind me.

I gave Jayne my ticket, she smiled, I moved up in the line. I started talking to Tim, when I realized he wasn’t there. I turned around to see what the heck was keeping him, and there he was smiling and talking, laughing with Jayne and she back at him. I knew and felt immediately something had happened. Kinda subtle, but definite. We sit down to eat, Tim’s smiling big-time, talking to himself, and looking back at the door where Jayne was still checking meal tickets.

“Did you see her?” he asked. Still looking over my shoulder at the door. “Yeah, I guess.” Was my reply, but I knew who, and what he was talking about. Something powerful and momentous had just happened.

I can recall a few weeks later, talking to some guys at our Rebman Hall dorm where Tim and I were roommates, and these guys were saying, “What the heck happened to Jayne Stefani??? We’ve known her for a year and want to ask her out, and your brother blows in here from Chicago and sweeps her off her feet!!! I laughed, but I knew what really happened…

…Jayne swept Tim off his feet, and continued to do so for the rest of their time together.

She was an amazing person, an exemplary human being, we all know that about her. An artist, certainly, as a dancer with incredible flair and fashion. And we only have to look around here at 606 to see her graceful touches at creating welcoming, inviting spaces, indoors and out. As a thinker, intelligent and gracious human being, especially reflective in so many ways of being present in the company of others, thinking of what’s best for them, to make family and guests connected and loved.

I have a poem I’d like to read in honor of Jayne. Kathy and I belong to poetry sharing group who gather once a month to drink wine and share favorite poems. I first thought of a poem by that famous Irishman, Oscar Wilde, titled “Requiescant” as in the Latin, “Requiescant in pace”, “May they rest in peace.” Wilde had written it in honor of his sister who passed away at a young age.

And I liked to the opening stanza :

Tread Lightly, she is near,
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.

Jayne is all around us, even this moment, right here, but in a more joyous and playful way, I think. No doubt given her natural sensibilities, she will hear the flowers grow and she will rejoice with us, each spring and summer, as life renews around us. But I think her life as a mother of two fine human beings, …the gifted, talented, thoughtful, and loving, Ruth and Jacob, not surprising, eh? given their parents,…and as Tim’s lifelong partner, she was incredibly robust in life, joyful and certainly adventurous. I think we all have stories we could share about her risk taking and spirit of adventure. I love the notion of her deciding to take Flamenco dance lessons in Madrid, from none less than in the Masters studios of Paco Peña. Jacob and Lisa could tell about their incredible saltwater adventure/excursion in the UAE organized by Jayne. I’ll bet grandsons, Silas and Eli have a few to share. One Kathy remembers is from our visit to Lugano 25 years ago is from Jayne, “It’s 10am! I think it’s time for Prosecco!!!” And later Jayne urging a last minute boat ride across the lake for an evening sip of wine and view of the sun setting.

Joie de vivre? Carpe Diem? It seems Jayne had it in spades.

Anyway, The poem I’ve chosen that made me think of Jayne today is called “Bridge”, by Jim Harrison, who was raised in Michigan, but lived most of his life in Montana. I have a couple of his collected poetry works, you may knew him from his numerous fiction titles, Dalva, The Woman Lit by Fireflies, Wolf, Legends of the Fall, etc.

At any rate, when I saw Harrison’s images and reference to the ocean ( Jayne loved Dillon Beach and her family’s cabin) and his reference to Antonio Machado in his poem, that sealed the deal.

Machado was a late19th, early 20th century poet born in Spain, Sevilla, a friend of Oscar Wilde’s. His later style was characterized by an engagement with humanity on one side and a contemplation of existence on the other. One of his contemporaries said of Machado, “He spoke in verse, and lived in poetry.” Sounds like Jayne, eh?

This is the poem, “Bridge” by Jim Harrison. And in the spirit of Robert Bly and Padraig O’Toomah, I’ll read it twice.

Most of my life was spent
building a bridge out over the sea
but the sea was too wide and it didn’t
go anyplace. I’m proud of the bridge
hanging in the pure sea air. Machado
came for a visit and we sat on the
end of the bridge which was his idea.
Now that I’m old the work goes slowly
but the material keeps coming as I hang
here in the air. Ever nearer death I like
it out here high above the sea bundled
up for the arctic storms of late fall,
the resounding crash and moan of the sea,
the hundred foot depth of the green troughs.
Sometimes the sea roars and howls like
the animal it is, a continent wide and alive.
What beauty in this the darkest music
which imitates the sky’s thunder
over which you can hear the lightest music of human
behavior, the tender connection between men and galaxies.
So I sit on the edge, wagging my feet above
the abyss, the fatal plummet. Tonight the moon
will be in my lap. This is my job, to study
the universe from my bridge. I have the sky, the sea,
the faint green streak of Canadian forest on the far shore.

I love the notion of Jayne sitting on the edge, wagging her ballerina feet above us, bundled up, of course, the full moon in her lap talking with the Spaniard Machado by her side, and that faint green streak of Canadian forest just north of us.

Requiescant in Pace, Jayne. We love you and miss you.

– Patrick Keating, Coupeville, September 10 2022

Wes Weaver: Jayne Stefani Keating, Approximately

It’s a singular pleasure and honor to be here with you all, who knew and loved Jayne best, at this, her antepenultimate waltz, antepenultimate, because Jayne will never have a last waltz as far as I’m concerned. For those of you familiar with the film The Last Waltz, you could consider me the Michael McClure figure, who’s been with Keatings throughout life, but perhaps, unwittingly, adds an unneccessarily esoteric angle to the tribute. But I promise not to recite the Canterbury Tales.

I’m Wes Weaver, coming to you from Cortland, New York. I’m here to celebrate Jayne with love, humor, irony, enthusiasm, and all of the other things that Jayne continues to bring out from within us that make her such an incredible, unforgetable, enigmatic, singular person. I’ve known Jayne, Tim, Ruth, and Jake for 44 years. I was a student of Tim´s at Hartwick College, and I even babysat Ruth and Jake a couple of times (ah, truth be told, they baby sat me). You could say that in large part, thanks to Tim and Jayne, I fell in love with Spain, where I met my wife of 37 years, and had my own versions of Ruth and Jake. Tim and Jayne were and are, and will continue to be unquestionable models for my marriage and family life. Good love, good kids, good life.

I also became a Spanish professor and a Dylanologist because of them. I met Jayne at a Faculty reception for new students at Hartwick in September of 1978, and of course was instantly transfixed by her wit and charm. Jayne ruled the room, as she would whenever and wherever we all got together in subsequent years: Oneonta, Syracuse, Cortland, Maryland, DC, and of course, Madrid, where Jayne proved time and again that she is the most Spanish non-Spaniard I’ve ever met. Duende.

Thanks to Jake, I have the opportunity to share this photo with you all. I’m sure there are a million other more representative shots of Jayne, but this one is special to me because it’s the last time we were together, in 2015, right before a Bob Dylan concert at the Modell Lyric in Baltimore.

Jayne made us Cosmopolitans that day, and we were sitting in the yard enjoying them. I like this photo because even though Jayne is incredibly beautiful, it captures aspects of her inner beauty: concentration, attention, wisdom, zen, quietude. If you had seen Jayne in action while Tim and I were engaged in one of our rants about the uncanny perfection of Bob Dylan, the allure of Spanish poetry, art, wine, crossword puzzles, soccer, whatever, you would have thought, perhaps, that she was always a second or two behind the conversation. ¡Craso errot! Big mistake! Au contraire; she was always thinking three or four minutes ahead of us. Two examples will suffice. Jayne’s take on Dylan’s long-awaited 2001 album Love and Theft: “Tim, ‘Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum’ is the stupidest song. I hate it!” Or, Jayne on Dylan’s vocals from some obscure bootleg I scored for Tim: “Well, Wes, He sounds like he’s trying to imitate the Bill Murray lounge singer from Saturday Night Live”. Right now she’s probably saying “Yeah, right Wes, nice picture. I’m putting my glasses away, you doo-doo.”

Jayne, I love you, I miss you …

No te has ido. Es que antes, unidos cuerpo y alma, estabas entre el mundo.
Y ahora (no te has ido) alma y cuerpo distantes, el mundo está dentro de ti.

I’ll translate; it’s a poem by Juan Ramón Jiménez.

You haven’t left. It’s just that before, body and soul united, you were among us in the world.
And now (you haven’t left!) soul and body somewhat removed, the whole world is within you.

Te quiero siempre, Jayne.

– Wes Weaver, Coupeville, September 10 2022

Mal Keating (as read by Karen Keating): Hello to everyone gathered together to celebrate and honor the life of Jayne Stefani Keating. I wish I were there with you. I would love to hear your stories and recollections about Jayne and about how she has affected your lives. I hope you don’t mind me having Jane or Karen read some of my recollections for me.

There’s a saying most everyone has heard that starts something like, “You know there are really only two types of people in the world…”. Probably everyone also has their own way to finish the saying. Mine is pretty simple, for me it’s there is the kind of person that I want to see, and then there is the kind of person I don’t want to see.

I could be shopping in a grocery store and see someone from a distance and say to myself “Hey there’s so and so, I’m going to over and say hello”. Or I could see another person and say, “Oh no, there’s so and so. I hope they don’t see me. I gotta get out of here”.

The first person; the one that I’m excited to see, I actually feel a boost of energy from and the second person, the one I don’t want to see, I’m depressed and actually feel energy drained from me.

Fortunately, Jayne was a person that I was always happy to see. It was always uplifting to see Jayne or to just be in her presence. And it was always that way from the beginning. I remember when she first came to the house in Elgin and I knew right away that Tim scored big. Jayne obviously was beautiful and quite attractive but she also had the personality and sense of humor to match.

It’s not an easy thing to be brought into a large family, but Jayne did it in her own special way that made her a natural fit. Most of my memories of Jayne are in the summer time and up at the lake. Most of them come together in groups, like Friday night fish frys in Jefferson where twenty or more of us would go to Bill and Mary’s bar. We’d have to wait for them to clear the back room so we could all fit in.

Or going to the horse pulling contests in Jefferson, the fourth of July fireworks in Deerfield, the softball games we’d play in town. All the different bars we’d go to. Lake Ripley Inn, Rockdale, Marsden’s, Shore Place, etc. It really wasn’t so much about the drinking but more about being with the people you went with. Brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins galore and especially Grandad.

There are so many things that could be mentioned that again all kind of coalesce into one group, but one thing in particular stands on it’s own as a perfect example of the kind of person Jayne was. I know I mentioned it before but I think it’s worth repeating, and it’s about the time that Tim and Jayne came to visit Jo-Jo in Elgin the last summer she was alive.

Everyone knew that this was going to be the last time that they would be together and we had Jo-Jo in a hospital bed in the front room. Lenore brought some fish from the lake and Dan and Tim set up a grill to cook them on. They all got together and made a perfect summer time meal that we were going to share.

Jayne came up with the perfect suggestion that we bring the dining table and chairs into the front room so we could sit together with Jo-Jo while she laid in bed. Jo-Jo so enjoyed the meal and the experience of sharing it together in what kind of turned out to be her last supper. At least in the sense that there were none others like it that were cooked so well and shared by such a large gathering of family. I know it meant a lot to Jo but it was like Tim said later, bringing that table into the front room let Jo-Jo feel like she was on equal footing.

One last thing I’d like to mention is that long ago Jayne sewed together a tapestry that read, “Reap Rich Harvests That Love Has Sown”. Doris had that hanging on the kitchen wall in the cottage for decades. I just like to say that while Jayne sewed that expression literally as a framed piece of art she also sewed it literally in life with Tim. It can be seen in the hearts of all the people that are here honoring her in person and in the hearts of all the people that have shared messages on line. But mostly, it can be seen in the grown children they raised, Ruth and Jake. I don’t know how you can have a greater tribute or testimony to Jayne and Tim than those two. What a rich harvest that love has sown indeed and no one knows it better than Jayne and Tim.

Again, I wish I were there with you all. All the best and all my love to everyone. especially Tim, Ruth and Tony, Silas and Eli, and Jake and Lisa.

Love, Mal

– Mal Keating (as read by Karen Keating), Coupeville, September 10 2022

Tim Keating: Jayne had a couple of mottos for life: one for professional/artistic life (the classical ideal and the pursuit of perfection; one in her personal life. It was implicit in how she behaved. It was probably a variation on the Golden Rule. In Jayne’s case it was: “Do for others, not for yourself.” As friends gathered around Jayne during her final weeks, she called out to Jake: “Make sure everyone has food and wine.” To which Jake responded “Mama, you must be getting better, always thinking about others, even as you are on your last legs.”

There was one motto, though, that was explicit. Jayne would often say “It never hurts to ask.” It could be bakers in Abu Dhabi making naan in a storefront window. “I bake a lot of bread, would you let me handle your naan dough.” It never hurts to ask, so the bakers welcomed her into the shop to work the dough.

There were situations where other people might just walk away thinking it inappropriate or impossible to pursue, instead, Jayne would be inspired and say “It never hurts to ask.” So a cold call to Paul Sanasardo after his workshop at Hartwick College was cancelled for low enrollment blossomed into a very fruitful, long term collaboration in dance. Other folks might have been intimidated to approach a personality of Paul Sanasardo’s stature, but for Jayne, well, “It never hurts to ask.”

By chance she and I walked into the Old Waldorf School (Maryland). Jayne saw the space, and said, “I love this space. I’d love to start a ballet arts academy here. I wonder who I would have to ask.” The idea seemed preposterous to me, but for Jayne, well, “It never hurts to ask.”

When we were in Spain, brother Michael joined us, and every Sunday we would go to Madrid’s enormous flea market, the Rastro, where there were plenty of merchants exercising the “hard sell.” Mike observed that Jayne had perfected the “soft buy,” a technique clearly rooted in the idea that, “It never hurts to ask.”

“I only have 800 pesetas,” she would tell a vendor of beautiful silver ware, who wanted 3000 pesetas, “and I do so appreciate your silverware.” So, since “It never hurts to ask.” she took home the silverware for the improbable sum of 800 pesetas.

So, Jayne, since “it never hurts to ask,” will you come back right now to grace us with your beauty, wit and elegance? No, this time it hurts so very much to ask.

Please raise a glass of champagne to toast that grace, elegance, charm, humor and beauty that was Jayne Stefani Keating.

– Tim Keating, Coupeville, September 10 2022