Genevieve Juliana (Chou) Wilson

Genevieve Wilson, my sweetie pie, matchy-rebel, died 12-21-24. A Celebration of Life will be held at Eureka Elks Lodge, 445 Herrick Ave, Eureka, CA 95503, at 2:00 PM on February 2, 2025.

When you are married, you are one, not two. We were always with each other. We talked and shared memories. Genevieve’s memories became my memories. When I started writing this obituary, it became a lengthy biography, and I had to stop and shorten most of it.

Genevieve’s maternal grandfather ran a store in Dutch Guiana in South America. When Genevieve’s grandfather was poisoned by natives, her grandmother moved back to China. Although her grandmother spoke five languages, she didn’t speak Chinese and had to learn it from TV.

Genevieve’s father proposed to her mother with a letter written in his own blood. Her father was a captain in the Taiwanese Navy. He cared for people. Emperor Hirohito sent him a thank you letter for saving a Japanese fishing boat during the war. Genevieve showed me how the crew saluted her when she came aboard when she was five.

Her father taught at the Naval University in Taipei, Taiwan. Genevieve, her brother, Alphonsus, and sister, Babiana, lived in a big three-story house her father built near the Imperial Hotel. Genevieve enjoyed lowering a basket with candy from one of the upper floors for other kids. Unfortunately, her father built the house on government land, and the government took it back.

Her father became a United States citizen in 1966. He brought his family to Riverdale, Maryland, half a century ago. He worked hard menial jobs, several jobs at a time, for long hours, to make enough money to keep them here. It was a tremendous downgrading change for him. One time when Genevieve was helping him carry a big load, he was so exhausted he fell asleep by the side of the road. Her family lived in a basement for a while.

Genevieve worked as a cook for a Dutch family, but she wanted to be a doctor, so she went to a Chinese University. To her the textbook written in Chinese were convoluted and difficult to follow, but the English language versions were written much more logically and clearly.

Genevieve had learned to speak three Chinese dialects, Mandarin, Cantonese, and Hakka (her mother’s dialect). All dialects used the same written script.

Genevieve got her Associate Arts degree while pregnant with Juliana. Juliana’s father was British. He had medical problems from an auto accident. His mother didn’t like Genevieve’s family, so she wouldn’t let them marry. Genevieve continued with her doctor curriculum, but she had to return to Maryland with only a nursing degree.

She married Bill, but after two months he filed for separation. He changed his mind and kept begging her to come back. She made a big mistake and relented. That began 16 years of misery with him. She had Michelle, Michael, and Theresa.

Bill retired from the Postal Service in 1990. Genevieve found her Fortuna house by mail and bought it herself, sight unseen, rather than move to Vermont. She knew that when you rent they can kick you out, so she wanted the house. Genevieve was trying to keep the family together and protected. But Bill abandoned Juliana, and Genevieve didn’t know what happened to her. Genevieve got a second job selling real estate in order to get money to pay for a divorce. After the divorce, Genevieve was a working single Mom.

When she worked at real estate, John Miller would talk for hours with her, but when he teased her about when she was going to keep him warm, she would say, “When a blizzard is here”. Eventually they did get married. He would write love letters that all the other nurses liked to read, and she was happy. She kept all the letters. They enjoyed two time-shares in Kauai. I am grateful to John for her happy time with him.

John had been 16 years in the Merchant Marine and Navy. Once he went undercover and stole one of German Admiral Donitz’s three sextants. John’s ex-wife kept the sextant. Another time the captain of his ship was going to crash into another ship, and John countermanded the captain’s orders and saved the ship. The captain was going to court martial him, but the Admiral commended the captain for avoiding the crash, so the captain dropped the charges. John liked sailing, but he couldn’t take it anymore and quit to become a redwood burl clock maker in Fortuna. Genevieve helped him make them.

Unfortunately, John was much older, and he had heart problems and died. Genevieve was again a single mother, still working full time as a nurse, making payments on her house, and trying to keep her kids going.

She recorded a dozen songs, and you could tell by her voice that she was sad and lonely. Her snuggly pit bull, Petey, with a black patch over his right eye helped her survive.

Genevieve couldn’t afford to feed everybody. She didn’t want to, but she had to ask Michelle to leave. Michelle, thinking positively, later said it worked out well, for she had to learn to start her business.

Genevieve met Frank while dancing at the Moose Lodge. She loved him, but he never once said he loved her. She encouraged him to go to Kauai, Costa Rica, and ship cruises. When Frank got prostate cancer, he bled a lot. At the hospital they gave him blood thinner, and he died two weeks later.

Genevieve met me, Charles, while dancing and married nine years ago. She loved to dance: flamenco, Irish jig, tango, ballet. She loved dancing with me at festivals, concerts, farmer’s markets, casinos, anywhere where there was music. We were not great dancers, but half a dozen people said we were “inspirational.”

She wanted to play all kinds of musical instruments, but there was so little time. She had three accordions, a baby grand piano, two uprights, violin, guitar, mandolin, ukulele, banjo, a drum set, congo drums, bongo drums, and several others which I don’t know the names of.

Most people in cities don’t pick the fruit on their own trees. We would see an apple tree or a plum tree, mostly wild, and pick boxes of fruit. I bought a motorized juicer, and we would make juice and puree, which we put in those plastic jars that Costco put nuts in, then freeze them.

Genevieve liked to cook all kinds of things which I liked. I helped her as best I could as her “Caucasian dishwasher.”

She loved to talk, and once we talked at the Bear River Casino from 10 in the evening to 7:45 the next morning. She loved to sing at karaoke, in our car, on the internet, or wherever. She was happy again.

Genevieve wanted to help people stay healthy. We carried signs about vaccines and waved at people at the Courthouse corner on Fridays for five years. “Take your vitamins D and C and zinc. Get plenty of fluids and sleep. Keep your immunity up. That’s the name of the game.”

You can see her videos if you search for “Genevieve Reilly Corona Song 2”. The CDC left five intact because they could sell advertising, but they temporarily banned the sixth because “it did not meet community guidelines.”

Security guards would tell her she couldn’t talk to anybody and routinely lie, “several people complained”, to pretend she was in the minority. Police, however, would give her hugs and ask for more bumper stickers to give friends.

In nine years I calculated she asked 35,000 people, “what do you think about the flu (or covid) shot?” Their response ranged from a shout of “I hope you died before you infect me”, to “you infect the babies”, and “you’re going to kill my 5-year-old grandson”, to hugs and “you saved my live seven years ago.”

Genevieve started having medical problems. She didn’t want all the invasive tests because she no longer trusted hospitals or doctors. Even if she were to take the test, she decided she wouldn’t want the “treatment”. As a nurse she knew what was coming. Her mood changed, and she became irritable. She once tried to reassure me, saying, “I’m not mad at you.” She had prepared an Advance Directive saying she wanted to die at home, but it didn’t work. Her son Michael convinced her to go to a hospital.

I held her hand for most of ten days, and sometimes I imagined she would squeeze my hand in return when I would tell her, “Wu ai nee”, “I love you”.

To send flowers to the family or plant a tree in memory of Genevieve Juliana (Chou) Wilson, please visit our floral store.