My friend Jane (her eulogy)

This post is actually from my friend Jane’s celebration of life service.  Please trust me when I say that Jane is a woman worth hearing about more than once.  She was remarkable!  And for reasons I still can’t see, she trusted my words, asking me to deliver her “eulogy” shortly after we met.  “It has to be you,” she said.  If only you could have met her, you would understand why this was so shocking to me.  She had lots of friends.  People knew her, remembered her and couldn’t seem to get enough of her.  Yet, she never saw it.  She lived and then moved on from here in the same state, completely unimpressed with herself.  And that’s why, when I do speak to groups big or small, I speak of her and I will continue to do so as often as I can.  In fact, the very first time I spoke to a group of women about Jane (which was the post entitled My Testimony), several women came up to me and told me that they just had to meet this woman Jane; and my response to them was, “You’re just going to have to wait ’til Heaven for that!” 

This world needs “safe” women, women who can be trusted with every part of who someone is.  That’s the kind of God we have, and thus that’s the kind of person we need to strive to be.  Jane was that kind of woman, one you could be totally “real” with, and she has inspired me to be that type of woman as well.  I don’t always get it right these days, and I certainly haven’t always in the past, but I have always wanted to and I refuse now to ever stop trying to.  I’m thankful God allowed me the privilege of knowing the woman you’re going to read about.  

Her eulogy was “delivered” on March 8, 2014 at Raleigh First Assembly (the church family of Jane’s beloved granddaughter).

 

My lovely friend, whom I affectionately referred to as the Brooklyn cat-woman, asked me to speak at the celebration of her life not long after we met.  At the time, I was surprised that Jane chose me to do this.  Our friendship was a new one and it was obvious to me that Jane’s life was full of special friendships.  I was, though, and I still am, honored to be given the opportunity to talk with you today about a woman who would become one of the closest friends I believe I will ever have on this side of Heaven.  Jane became critically ill from cancer when she was 69 years old, and I became critically ill from cancer too when I was 39–and we would find out about the disease plaguing us within a month or so of each other, both in the fall of 2010.  We would then meet around the beginning of 2011.

 

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the that day Jane and I met.  We were both sitting in the Rex Cancer Center in the room the staff at Rex refer to as the sunroom because there are windows on three sides.  Though I didn’t know Jane yet, I noticed her right away when I walked in that day for chemo.  She was leaning back in one of the chairs getting her own chemo, and she looked so incredibly beautiful and peaceful; she had her eyes closed and seemed to be listening to music.  And I remember thinking, “She’s one of yours, isn’t she God?”  At that time, I had just found out the blood cancer I was diagnosed with had gone into remission and had just returned from John’s Hopkins where I had gone to get a second opinion.  I was basically trying to decide whether or not I should have a bone marrow transplant right away–one hospital had told me to do it and another had told me to wait.  So, as Jane and I were receiving our meds that day, someone at the hospital with us said aloud, not to me but close enough by for Jane and me both to hear, “I don’t know what that girl is thinking.  That stuff is just going to come right back if she doesn’t have a transplant now!”  At that moment, as I was fighting back tears, Jane opened her eyes and turned her head toward me and smiled saying, “She has no idea who our God is, does she?”

That’s when we met; and since that one statement Jane made to me that day, my life has never been the same.  Valerie came in and got Jane shortly after we met.  I then did something I had never done before–I left my phone number at the nurses’ station and asked them to give it to the woman I had been talking with.  I felt like I had to see her again.  Once was just not enough; and I thank God that my Brooklyn cat woman friend used the number I left behind that day.  In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Jane was not a crazy cat lover–she just appeared to have a lot more than one life in her (and I’m sure you’ve heard the old expression “A cat has nine lives.”).  Well, that’s how she got her nickname.  It seemed that every time she was counted down, she got back up.  As many of you had the privilege of witnessing, Jane was more alive close to death than just about everyone I know who is walking around right now perfectly healthy physically.  She said to me often, “They say I’ll never be in remission.  So what do they call this?  I’m really living right now.”  And she was, and she did, up until the very moment she was called Home.  And just so I’m clear about Jane’s upbringing, she did inform me that she spent many more years in Long Island than she ever did in Brooklyn; so, I probably should have named her the Long Island cat woman (but Brooklyn just seemed to fit somehow).

 

Though Jane and I were three decades apart in age, I always felt like I was with a peer when I was with her (except when she would become more motherly and boss me around a bit).  Over the many, many hours that we spent talking, I found out some interesting, and perhaps lesser-known, facts about Jane that involve even more things we shockingly had in common.  So, here are just a couple of those.  When we were both little girls, we found ourselves wishing that our names were not Jane and Angela–and we instead both wanted to be named Toni (T-o-n-i).  Now, what are the odds of that!?  And when we were young we also each fantasized about being part of the exact same profession (and it wasn’t being an educator or modeling and working at Macy’s)–we both wanted to be secret agents, spies.  And all I can say now is that the CIA really missed out because Jane and I would have made quite an espionage team!

 

Oh, well, neither of us ever changed our name to Toni or joined the secret service–but girls do dream.  Besides, Jane did marry Denny, whom she thought looked an awful lot like Sean Connery.  Though Jane and I never went out into the field together as secret agents, one thing we did do for sure was fight together side by side in the trenches of a most ugly battle.  Jane and I were trench buddies indeed and most unlikely ones–one from the North and one from the South, one who had not quite yet even made it to middle-age and one who was just entering into her so-called golden years.  There was never any doubt though in either one of us–we were meant to meet.  Our friendship is one of the many beautiful and priceless gifts that God has given us through our illnesses.  As full as our lives were, we still needed each other.  Jane was able to encourage me in a way that no one else in my circle was capable of and she often said the same of me.  I don’t think I’ll ever forget getting a phone call from Jane when I was in the transplant unit at UNC.  She had a break from treatment and went home where she was having a tea (something else we had in common–a relentless love for tea and scones).  Jane called me on one of my very worst days.  I had told my husband that day that I couldn’t speak to anyone.  I wasn’t even sure I would live through that day.  But Jane called and asked my husband to hold the phone where I could hear it.  Then she and some her friends (who may well be in this room right now), sang to me; and I began to weep, as Jane and her friends, my sisters, reminded me God had not forgotten me at all.

 

Jane did that often–she made God come to life for the people around her.  She would be the very first to tell you that she was far from perfect and that she always wanted to be so much better at life than she was–that’s one of the many things we had in common.  We desired so desperately to be better women for God, but at the same time we knew that He loves us just the way we are.  We talked about that a lot, about how we couldn’t mess up enough to make Him stop wanting us and loving us.   That’s the biggest thing we had in common.  HIM.  Yes, Jane and I both fell in love with the same man, and His name is Jesus Christ–the Son of God, the great I AM, our King.  We are royalty–“daughters of the King”, as Jane loved to say.  God called us to Himself, and we both answered that call and, ultimately, that’s what brought the two of us together.  That’s why we were so blown away by each other–because we were completely blown away by Him.

 

One of Jane’s most favorite past times was studying the Bible–the ultimate Love letter to this world.  And Jane loved to encourage others to study the Bible too; one of the very first things she said to me was, “You need to get involved in Community Bible Study/CBS.”  She said this to me when I wasn’t even sure I would see my next birthday, but she had enough faith for both of us (and then some).  She told me too to forget about cancer–she would kill me if I didn’t go to CBS.  And thanks to Jane, both my daughter and I are now in our second year of CBS.  You see, God used Jane in more ways than I can recall to you–He used her in countless ways in my life and in the lives of those I saw her interact with when we were together; and I’m sure many of her other friends and family in this room today would say exactly the same thing.

 

Jane and I often talked about something I believe most of us think about if we’re honest.  Will things ever get so bad we let ourselves begin to think God may not be so good after all?  And it is in the answer to this question that we can perhaps most clearly see Jane’s legacy.  Through all that she endured down here in this fallen world, she never, ever forgot that God is good; and she never stopped talking about it.  God’s always Good, because He just can’t be anything else.  Jane knew that; and she would tell you that, if you ever want to know more about how good God is, you shouldn’t look first at any of us–you should look at His Son.  Look at Jesus.  Look at His life and look at His death; and then look at how He rose again.  That’s God’s goodness.  And that’s how and why we are celebrating today–we’re rejoicing about what Jane called “her change of address.”  Jane was in Christ and Christ was in her, and that’s why and how we can know that Jane’s more alive now where she’s at than she ever was down here–and that’s a whole lot of “alive!” Because we know how very fully Jane lived while she was down here with us.

 

There’s a special quote Jane absolutely loved, and she wanted me to share it with you; it’s from the famous British pastor Charles Spurgeon, and in it Spurgeon talks about what death means to someone who believes in Christ.  Spurgeon says, “As for that grim lion of death of which some speak, it does not exist.  Death to a believer is rather an angel than a lion.  The valley through which we are to pass is the valley not of death but of the shadow of death.  For the believer there is no substance in death; it is only a shadow.  The shadow of a dog cannot bite, the shadow of a sword cannot wound, and the shadow of death cannot destroy.”

 

It seems fitting now to end this tribute to my beloved friend with some words from her very best friend.  Psalm 23 was Jane’s absolute favorite.  And that, of course, is probably the psalm most typically read when people down here change their address for good.  The Lord is my shepherd.  I shall not be in want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.  He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.  Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.  You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.  You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.  Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  Jane was sure she had a forever home, and she wanted all of the people who were impacted by her to be sure too.  Through Jesus Christ, everyone can be sure–and that’s the most important thing Jane wanted to be shared today at this celebration of her life.  HIM–Jesus, the ultimate Love of Jane’s life.