My good friend Jane passed away this week. At the service last night, I wanted to say a few words about what she meant to me. I took a few moments yesterday morning to write down my thoughts; I shared an abridged version at the service. Something about posting what I wrote here on this blog is cathartic for me, so here it goes:
I love Jane. I loved her humility, her empathy, her laughter. I loved that she stretched me to think about life from different perspectives.
She and I met more than a decade ago when living together at UNC. When asked to share my memories of Jane, I was flooded with them…many of which illustrate the witty, fun, charismatic Jane we all knew. I look forward to exchanging some of those memories with you later this evening.
What I would like to share with you now are a couple of memories that stand out to me as representing who Jane was in two of her most significant roles - as a friend and as a mother.
You're all here tonight because Jane made an impact on your life -- Jane was one of the most significant relationships I have ever had. In a word - she was a friend. The following anecdote may seem so small, but it wasn't to me…
When I was engaged to be married, about four and a half years ago, Jane - along with our friends Monika and Cheryl - threw me a bridal shower and bachelorette party. And, while I know Monika and Cheryl were instrumental in the planning, I also know it was Jane who took care of all the final touches, the "details," if you will. I'll never forget when I opened up the invitation she sent to me - I was immediately touched. Not just because the invitation was beautiful (clearly designed by Jane), or because my friends took the time to throw this party in my honor, but because it was so clear that the creator of this invitation - Jane - knew exactly who I was…and took the extra steps to incorporate that into the invitation. The following details are thing that nobody else would notice, but that I did. She refers to my now husband as "B," which is what I call him, rather than as "Brian." She refers to me as "A. Christine Yates," making sure to include the "A-period." I have always been called my middle name - but Jane knew how closely I also identify with my first name - Anna - and that I almost always refer to myself as, "A. Christine." The most vivid detail, though, were the colors - red and pink and orange. I love vibrant colors, and these three most of all. That she chose those colors for the invitation was no mistake - she remembered.
Then, when I arrived to the shower, I immediately noticed that she filled the space with beautiful flower arrangements she created - all red and pink and orange. And, she had taken the time to make me this big, floppy hat. This is a long time with a glue gun! She made sure that no detail was unattended to.
There's more. If you did the math in your head, you would have realized that Jane was pregnant at this time - very pregnant and within weeks of giving birth to her son, Owen. And, did I mention she wasn't living at home, because she was remodeling her house? And, that she had some other personal challenges she was dealing with? None of this deterred her. And, in the end that night, she insisted in going "out" with all of us…running from bar to bar on Franklin Street and staying out until the wee hours of the morning. I must have suggested to her 10 times that she may want to go home and rest, but she wouldn't have it. I have an incredibly vivid memory of her sitting in the corner of a local college bar, sipping her water and looking like she's rather be just about anywhere else.
But, she did it all for me, her friend. That's the kind of friend she was.
The final observation I'd like to leave you with is of Jane as a mother. There's simply no relationship more significant than that of parent and child, and Jane's connection with her son was no exception. I recall Jane's pregnancy as being the most contented period in her entire life. She recounted to me numerous times how at peace she was during that time. And, she laughed - many times spontaneously about nothing at all. She said she just felt like giggling. I loved that.
Then, when Owen was born, they spent the next 12 months "in their own little world." Those are her words. She said she'd never known such a feeling - and really shut out much of the outside world. When I had my own daughter, I went to her with many questions about feeding, sleeping and such. She could answer almost none of them…she said she couldn't remember…that she was so focused on the bond between Owen and herself during that time, that she just couldn't recall such mundane details.
To close, I'd like to read aloud one of Jane's recollections of Owen - written by her on May 14th on her Facebook site. Many of you have probably already read this, but I think it's beautiful and screams of Owen's love for his mother:
"last night owen found a white paper heart left in his art box by his friend, Reanna. i finally remembered she had cut them out in February when she was making valentines. this week these white paper hearts with scribblings had been showing up all over the house. we got home from the park and owen needed a bath. he was very insistent that he had things to do before he took his bath and it was clear he was not dawdling. he took the seeds from his apple at dinner, filled up a cup of water and walked outside. am guessing he planted them somewhere... then he came inside and against my protest took one of the hearts and drew a human looking form on it. he said, "this if for you, mama. it is an angel for you in a heart". then he took another piece of scrap paper and wrote MAMA on it and handed it to me. it was a white sticker to label folders with, so i peeled it and put it on my sweater jacket. i was reminded of this when i realized i am still wearing a sticker out and about with myself labeled as MAMA."
May Jane have the peace she sought.
