Janet Lombard Ewen

Beloved, Mother, Sister, Aunt, Daughter and Cousin, Janet Lombard Ewen, of Athens, passed away on October 24th. Janet was an artist from her very earliest childhood in snowy New England, alongside sisters, Helen and Kitsy. She enjoyed a career in live theater in New York City, where she met her future husband and father of her children, David Jonathan Ewen. After a move to Florida, she raised her two children while continuing to write and perform, adding voice work for commercials and children’s recordings to her creative plate.

Upon arrival in Athens, Janet graced the stage of the Town and Gown Theater, while winning recognition for her poetry, including selections honored by the Athens Human Rights Festival. She wrote multiple stage plays and screenplays, and her wordsmithery even found its way into several greeting cards.

As a single mother for many years, Janet unconditionally loved and cared for her children, encouraging them in defeat and celebrating their victories. That love was later bestowed upon four lucky grandchildren. Janet’s fierce creative streak lives on in their exploits.

Janet is survived by her sister, Helen, her children, Jessica (Kurt Horst) and Daniel (Kim Blish), her grandchildren, Malia and Ronan Horst, Gardner and Moxie Ewen, and many beloved nieces, nephews and cousins. Janet will be laid to rest in Massachusetts, alongside her “Rosie the Riveter” mother, Alice Opaline Lombard, and father, Gardner Cromwell Lombard, a Corporal in the Marine First Division.

In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to Toys for Tots (ToysforTots.org).

THE TAPESTRY OF TIME

By Janet Lombard Ewen

I’ve bathed in beauty to the point of blindness,

Felt for the arrowheads of truth among smooth stones until my fingers bled,

I’ve grown deaf counting facts that escaped in broadcasts full of lies,

Barraged by years of garbled information, monumental hope, uncharted love,

What brutal poverty my soul has processed,

What detailed affluence composed this feast,

The fabric of my time amazes me,

Its stitchery, its color and its heft,

If I pulled out the errors, the near misses, the failed dreams, the lost hearts,

The cloth would fail,

I could not hold this product of my weaving about me when the wind is desolate.