Stephanie Miyeko Nakajima Nelson “Steph”

Nelson1945~2022Stephanie Miyeko Nakajima Nelson (“Steph”), age 76, died on February 19, 2022, just shy of her 77th birthday, to the shock and dismay of her family, who expected her to live at least another 24 years. Among those heartbroken by her premature departure are her devoted husband Paul, her partner in crime for 57-plus years; two daughters, Emily, and Kelly (Nick), whom she loved more or less equally at any given time; three grandchildren who could do no wrong – Katie, Nicholas, and Rhys; her baby brother Doug (Mary); and many good-looking young adults who called her “Aunt Steph”. She was preceded in death by her brother Wesley (Mary), and her parents, the Reverend Dr. K. Arnold Nakajima and Alice K. Nakajima. Her family are planning a celebration of her life on March 26, 2022, at D’Anjolell Memorial Home of Broomall 2811 West Chester Pike in Broomall, Pennsylvania; please refer to the website for details at a later date. The family asks that those who wish to honor Steph’s memory please consider making a charitable donation to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation in her name. Steph was born on March 10, 1945, in Princeton, New Jersey, where her father was studying theology. Her parents had relocated to the East Coast to avoid incarceration and removal under Executive Order 9066, which empowered the government to force persons of Japanese ancestry into concentration camps scattered throughout the American West. Steph was the first (and perhaps only) baby to live in one of Princeton University’s eating clubs. A neighbor, Albert Einstein, gave Steph her first lesson in general relativity by bouncing her on his lap. A caretaker by nature, Steph was always on the lookout for someone who needed love or attention. After graduating from Muskingum College in 1967, she began a career as a social worker. She counseled gang members in North Philadelphia, worked with developmentally disabled adults and children, and was instrumental in President Kennedy’s call for deinstitutionalization of patients at Byberry State Hospital and other institutions. Only 5’0 (“AND one-half inch”), she was nonetheless as fierce and protective as she was patient and compassionate. Her early work history almost prepared her for the rigors of parenting two opinionated girls of divergent personalities in a house with just 2.5 bathrooms. After her children were born, she left paid employment to be a full-time mother and homemaker, and continued to serve vulnerable populations when she could, volunteering with Children and Youth Services of Delaware County and, later, community medical services. She also volunteered at her children’s school and taught Art Goes to School (much to the disappointment of one second-grade teacher, who misunderstood and thought Steph would be making tempura for the class to eat, not teaching them about tempera, the medium favored by Renaissance painter Michelangelo). Steph attended every single one of her children’s scholastic and extra-curricular events, no matter how tiny a role said children played or how mind-numbing the performance, and she was responsible for the loudest clapping, cheering, and finger-whistling. She brought this same enthusiasm, times 100, to her grandchildren’s activities, which, to be honest, were probably more impressive anyway.Although a self-proclaimed non-athlete, at the goading of her husband, Steph took up tennis and platform tennis at age 30 and golf not long after. Despite her late start, she developed a more than decent proficiency at all three, playing at Aronimink Golf Club and finding modest success in club, interclub, and state tournaments. She and her ladies’ “paddle tennis” foursome were once featured on the local news (in the “weird sports” section, but still…). She overcame her deep-seated aversion to sweating and the not-so-great outdoors because it gave her more opportunities to spend time with her beloved Paul and with her friends, even if she preferred the dinner dances after the tournaments to the tournaments themselves. She loved dancing, especially with her husband, and would do so at every opportunity – at the club, in the kitchen, or in the middle of the produce aisle at the Acme.Later in life, she developed a cruel string of pretty terrible illnesses, one right after the other. Each successive illness robbed her of more function, more energy, and more dignity, and yet she persisted. Not because she felt she needed more from life—in fact, she would insist that she had lived a good, full life—but because her family couldn’t bear to let her go. So she stayed. For as long as she could manage, and then a little longer. And a little longer still. She could be the best of friends and the most fearsome of enemies. She had a multi-faceted sense of humor but bungled the punchline to three out of every four jokes she told. She demanded much of her family, but very little from them. She probably was smarter than you, but she was too polite to show it. She didn’t wear a cape, but she was a superhero, every day. She almost never forgot a name, although sometimes she would pretend to if she didn’t like you. She was kind almost all of the time, she was funny, she was beautiful, she was so, so loved, and she is already missed beyond all human measure.Relatives and friends are invited to her Visitation on Saturday, March 26, 2022 11:00 AM with a service to follow at 12:00 (NOON) at the Danjolell Memorial Home of Broomall 2811 West Chester Pike, Broomall, PA 19008. Inurnment Private