Grace Genevieve Muse of Eastsound died in her sleep December 17th.

Born June 1928 in Chicago to Oscar & Ina Hjerpe, Grace moved to Torrance CA at age 6. She spoke of her youth fondly, of the lifelong friends she made in grade school and never lost touch with, of her German Shepard, Norby, "the smartest dog in the world", of skipping school with friends to see Frank Sinatra. She started a lifetime of work at 14, using her height to sell a lie about her age. She used some of the money for flying lessons and told of soaring over strawberry fields and orange groves around Torrance. She graduated from Torrance High School at 16, then went to college but never graduated; it was a lifelong regret. Money was tight and work came first. She became an expert typist and knew shorthand. Always a hard worker, she often held multiple jobs, as when she was a secretary by day, Bob's Big Boy waitress at night, and part-time bookkeeper at KPPC radio. She was personal secretary to Stan Avery and James Pigott, managed the Eastsound branch of Washington Federal bank, worked at Orcas High School and the Islands' Sounder, ran a typing service out of her home, and volunteered at the Orcas library into her 80s. In her elder years, she often commented how strange it felt to not be needed somewhere. She married a jazz drummer when she was 24, divorcing 6 years later. Grace said she knew the union was doomed when he gave her an ironing board for her birthday. While working as a part-time model, she caught the eye of Bill Muse. They married in 1959 and had a daughter, Marla of Arlington, and a son, Bill of Seattle, both of whom survive, as do two granddaughters that Grace loved very much. Grace's husband passed in 2002 and she never got over it. Grace loved reading, her family, feeding birds, and travelling. She baked terrible cookies because she tried to make them healthful. She drove a '75 BMW from 1978 until a few months beyond when she should have, and she looked great in it. The only thing more rare than a harsh word from Grace was a person who had something bad to say about her. A nurse in the adult family home where Grace spent her final two months said Grace always made the others laugh, "except today; that's how we knew something was wrong." Scarlet fever as a child gave her a weak heart the rest of her life; the doctors say it's what ultimately did her in. But those who knew her knew a woman with a large strong heart, who was kind and funny, cheerful and thoughtful, hard-working and honest. Remembrances can be made to Friends of the Orcas Island Library, orcaslibrary.org/friends.html

Contribute

Help grow Grace's Tribute by adding messages or memories you'd like to share.

Thoughts

I am a nurse who was privileged to know and care for Grace in her last years. Her name is so suitable! She possessed a liveliness and graciousness in manner and a charming humor which never failed to lighten my day. Carol Boring
carolb
31st December 2014
Grace was a wonderful mother to me. My unwarranted self-confidence comes straight from her unwavering support as surely as my nose came from her face. (I eventually gave it back.) She also gave me a love of language and humor; I've kept those. When I became a parent, I'd frequently ask myself what mom would've done and then did that; in that way, Grace affected the lives of her grandchildren more than she knew. Mom always worked, and kept house, and cooked. If she was tired, it didn't show. When I was in high school, my dad was home only on weekends. Mom took care of my sister and me and the housework during the week and still held a job. At the time, it seemed as nothing to me. She had every excuse to gripe or beg off driving me somewhere, but chose not to. Her upbeat countenance was a welcome counterweight in a household that was two-thirds teens. Beyond all the usual parental platitudes, Mom has said a few things over the years that have stuck with me: "Get attached only to people, never to things." My house could burn to the ground and as long as the insurance check made me whole, I wouldn't cry. It is liberating not to care too much for things that do not care for you. "No one cares about you or your stupid pimple! They're too busy worrying about themselves." The context was a self-conscious 9th-grade me not wanting to go to school because of a huge zit on my nose, while Grace was trying to get me out the door and not be late for work. I realized that day how right she was: I am insignificant. The world doesn't give half a crap about what I say or do, let alone my acne. It was another liberating insight that helped me go my own way. "Billy, you're such a smart, sweet, handsome boy." When you're right, mom, you're right.
From Bill on 12/19/2014