In the months that followed, Jean
read books on grief and loss, hoping
she would find the will to go on with-
out her husband. There was one task
she thought could help: Jack had told
Jean that when he died, he wanted half
of his ashes scattered in Hawaii, where
they used to live, and half in Olympic
National Park, about a 25-minute drive
from their home. So in March 2017, the
71-year-old widow dutifully flew to
Hawaii to disperse the first part of
Jack’s remains in the ocean. But she
dreaded the thought of parting withhim forever and put off spreading the
rest of his ashes until several months
later, on July 17.
On that day, Jean took the urn hold-
ing Jack’s remains, grabbed Yoda, her
five-year-old, five-kilogram chihuahua
mix, and climbed into her truck. It was
4 p.m. A slight woman, just a bit over a
metre and a half tall, Jean wore capri
pants, a Hawaiian shirt and canvas espa-
drilles. It was around 20 C, so no need
for a coat on what she expected would
be a 30-minute walk. She planned to
be home in time for dinner. (PREVIOUSSPREAD)^ JOSEPHSOHM/SHUTTERSTOCKAfter meeting at work in 1982, Jean and
Jack Geer fell in love and married. They
doted on each other for 34 years. In
December 2016, Jean walked into their
backyard in Port Angeles, Wash., and
found Jack crumpled on the ground.
Seemingly in perfect health, he had
died of a heart attack at the age of 72.
reader’s digest
40 september 2019