Some years ago, in God’s perfect wisdom, He blessed me with Jannie as my loving wife, the mother of our three children—Andrew, Sheryl, and David—and the grandmother of our seven wonderful grandkids: Matthew and Abby, Parker, Emery and Preston, and Jason and Zoe.
I met Jan on a blind date when I was 25, working for Xerox in Los Angeles. She was 24, working for IBM. Honestly, I thought she was way out of my league. But we shared something deep—a love for God—and that brought us together. In 1975, we set sail on our greatest adventure together—marriage—a journey filled with love, surprises, and a fair share of unpredictable winds.
Like many young men (though not all), I was the dreamer, the one with big, sometimes wild ideas. Jan was my anchor—steady, practical, the voice of reason. Together, we charted a course that was both uncertain and exciting.
One of those leaps of faith came when we returned to Sacramento. It was a promise I made as a boy to my good friend Alan Ginn—who later stood as my best man—that someday, I’d come home. Jan and I both left our jobs with nothing lined up, trusting God to guide us. We started our own office equipment dealership, Edwards Office Systems. For nearly 45 years, Jan was the heart and soul of that business, keeping us steady through calm seas and storms.
Entrepreneurship gave us the freedom to prioritize what mattered most—our family. Whether picking up the kids from school, coaching Odyssey of the Mind, managing Little League teams, leading Boy Scouts for our sons, organizing mission trips to Ecuador, or serving at church, Jan made it all possible. She navigated every detail behind the scenes, steering us through the busyness of life with grace and precision.
Our home, thanks to Jan, was always open. The Chow house became a second home to many of our kids’ friends. She welcomed everyone with warmth, turning strangers into family.
Now, I have to admit—Jan ran a tight ship!
But Jan lived a life of contentment. She wasn’t drawn to riches, fashion, or material things. She found joy in serving others—with her gifts of organization and creativity. Whether as church camp registrar or hunting for new crafts for the women’s ministry in Ecuador, she gave her best. Even when the high altitude in Ecuador challenged her, she met it with her signature preparation and care.
As I sit here in her office, I see her legacy—rows of binders neatly organized: plans for Ecuador trips, Bible Study Fellowship notes dating back to the 1970s, leadership materials from her 18 years as chair of the CBM 50+ organization. Every page speaks of her love and dedication.
In recent years, our home has been filled with the laughter of grandchildren. Some of my most cherished memories are of holidays—especially Christmas—with Jan at the helm, decorating, preparing for church choir performances, creating that sense of joyful anticipation that surrounded every celebration.
Jan was so very, very good to me. She gave of herself fully—to be the best wife, mother, and grandmother. I will miss her deeply. But I am grateful for the life we shared, for the love she poured into all of us, and for the memories that keep her close.
Jannie had a way of gently nudging me beyond my comfort zone—encouraging me to finish my MBA, to join the choir and experience the joy she found in the holiday seasons, to learn ballroom dancing, to enroll in Bible Study Fellowship, and even to go back to college for Spanish (the only time I ever earned straight A’s!). In her loving, persuasive way, she always found the right strings to pull. I’m sure many husbands here know exactly what I mean—and I love her all the more for it. I’m richer for the journey she led me on.
One of our last big adventures was in 2023—a six-week trip across Asia before we knew of her cancer diagnosis. We stayed with six missionary families: in Hawaii with the Yoshiharas, in the Philippines with our son David and Channing and their family, in Singapore with Adrian and Joyce, in Kuala Lumpur with the Ginns, in Penang with Hannah Law, and in Taiwan with Peter and Ann Wang. Jan and I always believed in traveling with a purpose, and this journey filled our hearts.
Our very first adventure as husband and wife was also on the water. We spent our honeymoon sailing the Puget Sound in Seattle for a week—Jan’s first time on a sailboat. What a way to launch a marriage! This year, we had hoped to mark our 50th anniversary by setting sail once again. Although that voyage will have to wait, I know she’s already catching the breeze in a far better place.
In the 1970s, Roger Whittaker sang The Last Farewell, a song which uses a sailing metaphor to express love and longing, bidding farewell but holding on to hope. The words echo my heart as I look forward to seeing my beautiful Jannie again in Heaven. I love you.
From our family to all of you—THANK YOU. Your love and care over the past year have carried us. You’ve brought meals, visited, prayed over Jan, sang with her, sat quietly with her, reached out from afar through texts and calls. You have shown God’s love in tangible ways, and we are forever grateful.