Everything she learned, Jean learned from her mother.

Her father taught her how to hold her chin up in the face of adversity, what it felt like to have good soil under her hands - the accomplishment of growing something that would last - but Catherine Randall shaped Jean into the woman she'd eventually become.

From her mother, Jean learned how to keep a good house, be a supportive wife and mother, stretch out a meager income when times were lean, and splurge when it counted. Her mother taught her sewing - how to make her own clothes, how to mend them - how it felt when something was complete and made entirely by her own blood, sweat, and tears. She learned all of her recipes from her mother, passed down from Catherine's mother, and her mother before that. She learned the delight of sharing a home cooked meal with others, making things from scratch, and how a proper meal could warm you to the bone.

Thoughts of her mother brought back memories of freshly baked bread in a sunlit kitchen (flour getting everywhere, laughter frequent), the sweet tartness of blackberries on her tongue washed down with cool, fresh water from the stream, the smell of rain on freshly tilled earth, and remnants of her father's pipe tobacco hanging in the air after he kissed them goodbye in the mornings. Soft humming and dancing as they cleaned, weeding the garden, and her mother's sun-kissed chestnut curls and freckled skin. Her mother's hands were strong and calloused - whether they were picking Jean up and dusting her off after a fall, or soothing her when her period came late and the world came crashing down around them.

Life wasn't easy for them, but Catherine Randall made sure her childhood was a happy one. She learned how to work hard from her mother, how to keep a smile on her face and stride forward with confidence through the whispers and rumors. Jack Randall may have taught his daughter how to work the earth, but Catherine taught her how to work people.

It was her mother Jean turned to when she needed advice, needed comfort, or just needed a the warm presence of another person. Her mother had been the one to dry her tears when she found out she was pregnant, held her close the night before her wedding, and always had a cuppa ready when Jean visited with the boys. When her father died, Catherine sold the Randall farm and moved into the Beazley farmhouse where she helped take care of Jean's sons until her own passing.

Her father's passing had been a blow, but when Catherine Abigail Randall left them, it felt like a punch to the gut; Jean found it hard to get out of bed in the months following, but she remembered the lessons her father taught her - "Chin up, little bird, never let them see you falter" - and the lessons her mother taught her - "Keep smiling, darling girl, you've others to think of" - and managed to drag herself from her bed day after day, month after month, year after year.

The lessons her mother passed on guided her for the rest of her life; they got her through a failing farm, Christopher's death, the trouble with Jack, and having to sell the farm just to survive. They beat a constant tattoo in her head as she became a housekeeper, a receptionist, a nursemaid to a lonely old man - who eventually was replaced by his wayward son. The lessons stayed with her through scandal, heartache, and joyous occasions; they were Catherine's legacy and one Jean strove to pass on with every person she helped.