A Dear Friend Passes...

Last night I received a phone call from a friend from my childhood, George Anderson. George's sister Jani and I were best friends when we were teenagers. A couple of years ago I spoke with George. We caught up a bit on our families and where we were. Then he gave me contact information for Jane. I was so happy to get this information. I called Jani and got no response. For some reason she shut herself off from George and from me when I tried to reach her. Then last night at almost 11pm our time, George called. George lives in California now. He told me Jani had been very ill. Jani was a nurse by profession. She lived in Jacksonville, Florida. She had a dear friend, Alice, who is also a member of the Church. They worked together. It turns out Jani had a previous condition for which she had been taking a steroid medication. Alice told George that steroids can mask another illness as it comes along. Jani's new illness was severe chest and back pain. They believed she had pleurisy. Her condition worsened. They had taken her off the steroids to be sure of their diagnosis. It was determined she needed to be placed on a ventilator. Jani agreed. Evidently your oxygenation level should be 95-100. When they put Jani on the ventilator they got her level to 80. Then it dropped to 60. Then it dropped 40. Yesterday morning her spirit finished it's time here on earth. Jani had given birth to a boy that George believes was named Adam. This baby died. At some point in her life Jani found a good man and married him. He had children from a previous marriage and Jani was given a great opportunity to raise the kids as her own. It was good to talk with George. He will let me know the funeral arrangements. After Claude and I headed to bed, I found myself reflecting on many years ago in Louisiana and that dear friendship during those fun and at the same time difficult teenage years. This morning I came down to my sewing/craft/computer/etc. room and started to rummage for pieces of this past friendship that I might still have. I think it would be a good thing to share some of these with Jani's kids. I found my diary. I was 17 years old when I wrote in this diary. My goodness I was a silly kid. I think 'fickle' was the word I gave to Claude as I shared a few entries. One day I was 'madly in love' with some guy. The next I couldn't stand him. Ah...the roller coaster that is teendom. I believe it is because we are really trying to be an adult and we just haven't quite gotten it right yet. What a blessing if you can learn how to be an adult in a loving home with parents that understand you need to try and then be praised for the good you do and allowed to mend and be healed from the bad you might do. Jani and I were not the same age. I was older by a year or so. Jani was almost like a tomboy and I was not in the least. I tried but, really, there was no athleticism in my make-up. So if you were to look at the two of us, you would wonder why we made such good friends. I think that we both really enjoyed life and that was the match part. And I think that we really appreciated the strengths the each had that the other did not. Then the rest we were able to sift through and uplift when needed. The Anderson family lived up the hill from the Church. It was the next block over. There was an Insurance building across the street from the Church. If you walked across the parking lot the Anderson's back yard was the next thing you entered. Our church building was getting a little small for the number of members we had. We used the Anderson's basement for a classroom on Sundays. It was also the place we had a lot of youth activities. One of Jani and my projects was to create a newspaper for our ward (congregation). We took on this task and gathered articles from the different auxilliaries. We put in announcements and quotes and all kinds of things. One of my favorite memories was printing out that newsletter. It had to be typed on carbon paper and then run through a mimeograph machine. You really can't make mistakes when typing on carbon paper. So the typing process was slow to avoid making mistakes. The mimeograph machine was in the base of the steeple of the old church building. Quite often Jani and I were up there late on a Saturday night copying and stapling the pages so we could distribute our newsletter the next day at Church. To this day and I remember that wonderful smell of mimeograph fluid. It was a much safer world then. Our parents didn't worry about us being alone up there and then walking up the hill to Jani's home after we were finished. Patient leaders let us create those ideas that came to our heads. At one point we determined our newspaper should have a title. We determined we should have a contest and let the members of the ward suggest titles. We would be the judge and jury to decide the actual name from those suggested. Well...we really didn't pick any of their suggestions. Imagine that!! We were studying the Book of Mormon in Early Morning Seminary. We really liked the sound of the word 'Rameumptom'. This was not the best name for a newsletter based on it's context in the Book of Mormon. It is the name of an elevated stand in a synagogue in Zarahemla. The people would come on their Sabbath and each in turn would climb up on the stand and say the exact same prayer about how wonderful they were and how perfect they were and how they were going to be saved. Then they would go out from their meeting and not think or practice their religion any during the week. The poor were not allowed to climb the stand and say this prayer because their clothing was coarse and they were not on a par with the wealthy. So, you see, the word 'Rameumptom' was really not the best word. But Jani and I loved the sound of it. Just like we loved the sound of Mahershalalhashbaz who was the son of Isaiah. Some words are just fun. So we named our paper the 'Rameumptom' and our leaders just shook their heads and let us keep up our newsletter with it's less than perfect name. George Anderson was a great athlete. He ran long distance in high school and was in the state championships. One of our fun outings was to load up in a car with Jani's dad, Mack Anderson, and go to watch George run. We also tagged along to basketball games. It was great fun. Jani and I also made valentines one year for each of our Early Morning Seminary class members. I had a book of poems about animals. We picked an animal for each class member and used it for their valentine. We made refreshments and everything. I remember Jani moving a gun in a closet at their home. It was loaded and when it fell it managed to fire and the bullet hit Jani's toe. Jani was a bit accident prone. Jani wrote a poem about the incident. When I went to Papa's apartment this morning to practice music for Wednesday, I shared with him Jani's passing. He said it was very ironic that he happened to be reading in some of Mimi's history and came across a poem Jani wrote about that incident. He had just been reading it yesterday. He looked it up and I typed it in an eMail and sent it to my home. I'm sure I have it somewhere but to be sure I sent it via eMail. Here is Jani's poem. I shot a bullet through the floor, but also through my foot it tore. My painful cries rang out at last, George, George, come quick, come fast. The ambulance driver, her name was? Florence? Heavens no! it was Mommy Lawrence. I've never seen so many red lights pass, and to think the car was out of gas. To the hospital like a flash, where they "doctored up" the little ash. Back at home, I told my mother. Always me, Never another. It has come to my attention that I'm not designed, to be in bed, in bed, confined. My little Nurse, comes in quite handy, You know the one, Her name is Sandi. I find she's good at soothing the head, and also for putting peanut butter on bread. I feel as useless as a mule. I'll certainly be glad to get back to school. by: Jani Somewhere in all my treasures is a book that Jani made for me about me. I'll keep searching until I find it. It was actually like a little homemade journal of my antics. Neither of us had much money so these homemade gifts were what we shared with each other. The year we studied Doctrine and Covenants and Church History, we had a big thick book for a manual. It was full of wonderful pictures. In my book many have drawings and notes made by Jani. Jani was a dear friend. I loved her like a sister. I regret that in life we lose touch with some people that sustained and cared for us as we grew up. As George and I talked he reminded me that now Jani is not in pain, she is with the little son she lost years ago, and she is with Mack and Jewell, her parents. Bet they are having a great reunion.