On Saturday, February 8, 2025, my mother at age 93 went to be with the Lord Jesus in whom she put her trust way back in the 1970s.
Her obituary:
Jane Dreyer was born in New Washington, Indiana on August 25, 1931, the daughter of Icle and Laura Lea Robison, and grew up as the fourth child of six during the Great Depression and WWII. She married her teenage sweetheart, Ken, in 1951. Only five months later, Ken was drafted and served in the Army in the Korean War from 1951-1953. Jane supported her young family as Ken later attended Butler University Pharmacy School, did farming, and was hired by Eli Lilly, who transferred the family to Roanoke in 1965.
She and Ken enjoyed 71 years of faithful Christian marriage until his passing in 2022.
Jane was known for her love of family, friends, church, prayer, animals, gardening, cooking, travel, reading, following current events, and perhaps most of all, her strong faith in Christ. She was a fiercely loyal and dedicated woman.
She and Ken visited all 50 states and all the continents except Australia and Antarctica. But her favorite was time with family at Holden Beach and Smith Mountain Lake, where they lived for 38 years. She was an active, dedicated member at Halesford Baptist Church and volunteered for decades with Child Evangelism Fellowship, the Gideons, and Meals on Wheels.
She is survived by her sister Barbara Lee, children Larry (Sharon), Diane Ribble, Mark (Elizabeth), Scott (Deborah), 10 grandchildren, and 11 great-grandchildren.
Mom and Dad dressed for July 4 church, 2016.Mom points to a watershed event in her spiritual life when she had what is now known as a Near-Death Experience (NDE). It was in 1965 when she was in a difficult pregnancy with me (so you can say I’ve been causing trouble for awhile.)
Back in those days, people didn’t talk about NDE’s for fear of being branded a lunatic. She later told dad about it, who believed her, because he saw a change in her life and attitude, but the doctors dismissed it as medicine side-effects.
During delivery she heard a doctor bark “we’re losing her” and she had a flashback to the delivery room with her oldest son, eleven years earlier.
In her NDE, she envisioned herself going down a long tunnel toward a “Being” of peace and light. The Being asked her, “What have you done for Me?” She sensed it was God, so she rattled off a long litany of her “good works.” Faithful wife, loving mother, church member, hard worker, etc., trying to impress Him.
Then there was a pause, and the Being asked again: “What have you done for Me?”
She said she suddenly felt a wave of shame, as she realized all her good deeds were basically about herself, to make her feel and look good, or to appear better than others, which is called self-righteousness. She realized she had not been doing anything for God, but actually for herself.
She then saw an image of where she was at a gravesite. Her husband was standing with their three older children, while her mother-in-law was holding her newborn baby (me.) With a shudder she realized she was observing her own burial!
Despite the sense of feeling undone in front of the Being, she so enjoyed the peace there, she wanted to stay. But the voice told her, “Go back and raise your family.”
She later awoke from the complicated pregnancy and her vision as a changed woman. This is how she wrote about it when she finally had the courage to put her story to writing in 1976.
“I would say the biggest difference it made in my life was that I immediately no longer had any fear of death. It also helped me to see that God has a purpose and a plan for my life and I was given another chance to fulfill that plan and I definitely feel it is to raise our children and make a home for Ken and them. Maybe that is why I feel so compelled to teach them about God and to help them to learn to live the way I think would be pleasing to Him.”
Among her papers was this item which she didn’t write, but she signed and left with her other important documents, showing mom’s emphasis on spiritual priorities:
Thou art an heir of God through Christ. –Galatians 4:7
After making out my will today, I realized what I most want to leave my children are things without material value. So here is my Supplementary Will.
ARTICLE I: HOUSE
To each of my children, I hope to leave a home built with the solid bricks of faith in God and self-esteem. May their houses have windows of empathy and doors that open both ways.
ARTICLE II: VEHICLES
May my children be provided with some means of transportation to take them beyond themselves: an absorbing hobby; a service to others that only they can perform; a talent or favorite recreation that renews their spirit.
ARTICLE III: PERSONAL ITEMS
I bequeath to each child a jewel box filled with glistening memories: of drinking cocoa by the fire on stormy nights; of Black Beauty and Tom Sawyer and all the other books that made us laugh and cry together; of the shared miracles of a pumpkin-colored sunset, or tulips sprouting through the snow, or falling stars on a summer night. A bag of tiny diamonds made of little things, such as bedtime kisses, family prayer times and mealtime graces, homemade Valentines, backyard pet shows, penny carnivals and Kool-Aid stands.
ARTICLE IV: STOCKS AND BONDS
Finally, I would leave my children enough stock in the bonds of love that they will be able to keep investing it in others, becoming “heirs of God through Christ.”
ARTICLE V: TAXES
Before taxes are levied on this estate, please deduct (and forgive) cross words spoken, times of being too busy to listen and missed apologies.
Maybe you’d like to prepare a supplementary will today.
Lord, I bequeath these intangibles to those I love.
On Monday, Feb. 3, 2025 my wife and I were flying home from her native Taiwan, and the last flight was from Dulles Airport to Roanoke. While we were waiting at Dulles, the sky was overcast and gray. Totally drab, which matched our feelings, since we had learned only two days before that mom had chosen to go into hospice.
As boarding for the 5:40 flight to Roanoke began, however, some nearly horizontal shafts of sunlight began piercing the terminal, as a few clouds were breaking up allowing some of the lowering sun to penetrate the gloom.
Then, something remarkable happened. The formerly-overcast sky began to break up, gradually revealing an incredible sunset. As we walked to the plane, the western sky exploded into a vast canvas of reds, oranges, purples and yellows. It immediately struck me as a gift from God.
Adding to the blessing, our seats were on the right side of the plane, so as we flew south toward the Star City, we had a panoramic view of the spectacle. And by being in the sky, the sight was vast. Choking back tears, I told my wife, “This is a sign of comfort from God. Sunsets are beautiful, but they can only come at the end of the day. Mom is reaching her sunset time. And like Dad used to say, ‘There’s nothing like a winter sunset!’”
A few days before mom passed, Pastor Melvin and Sister Mimi Harris from Halesford Baptist went to visit her at Good Samaritan Hospice. When they walked in they asked her how she was doing. She replied, “I’m waiting for my ride.” Pastor Melvin first thought she was waiting to be discharged, but Sister Mimi immediately knew what mom meant. She was waiting to go be with Jesus. Mom knew she had finished her race, and told the family and friends she was at peace with that.
Funeral Home and Memorial Service details here.
–Scott Dreyer