My sweet friend Janna finished her mortal journey on January 19th, 2017. The months and weeks leading up to her passing were heart wrenching as we watched her body fight against her heart. She spoke often of her desire to leave this life and move forward. I was blessed with the opportunity to be there when she and James told their children a week before she passed, that their mom wasn't going to get better, and that it was only a short matter of time before she would die. I knew then that she was prepared to say good bye. It was through a mistaken text that I was able to say a last goodbye to her. I had texted James and asked if Janna was planning to go to California and not come home, so her children didn't have to endure that pain. He didn't respond for several hours, so I texted again and asked that if that was her plan, then could I please come say goodbye? He never read the first text, but responded to the second, "we are leaving in 30 minutes. Come now." It was the most emotional drive across town I had had up to that point, all the while thinking this was the last time I would get to see her in this life. I sat in front of her frail, thin body, took her hand and told her I thought her plan was dumb, and that I didn't like it. She looked at me like I was crazy. What's my plan? She asked. James, I said. Did you read the whole text? No, he hadn't. It wasn't her plan, she intended to come home. So, I drove them to pick up their rental car, she hugged me tight, we said I love you, and she said please take care of my kids. A few short days later she was gone, she and James were on their way home, hand in hand, from her last trip to her favorite place, Disneyland.
Her mom asked that I help prepare Janna by helping get her dressed, style her hair, and put on her make up. It was a sacred experience. Her mom, her sister Kaycee, sister in law Jennifer and I were there for 3 hours. We spent the first half of the time getting her ready, and the last hour and a half talking, laughing, and remembering. We forgot her underwear and as we were trying to decide if we should just have her go commando under her yoga pants, I could almost hear Janna's voice warning us not to. I turned to the mortician and asked him to find the largest pair of granny panties he could find. That should suffice in a small amount of revenge for her requesting that I speak at her funeral. He granted the request.
Her viewing was the largest the man working at the funeral home had ever seen. It was beautiful to see so many who loved her come to pay their respects and say good bye. The morning of her funeral was a hard one. We were honored to be asked to be there with the family during the family prayer meeting where we could say our last goodbye before the casket was closed. That moment was more difficult than I imagined. Watching her mother mourn over her was heartbreaking. We walked solemnly into the chapel, I barely got out a whisper to Jason that I wasn't going to be able to do this. My emotions were raw, my heart was broken, my soul wracked.
The service was beautiful. Her brother Shad gave an emotional and heartfelt Eulogy, after which I did pull myself together enough to deliver my talk. The spirit was present and I was given the gift of peace and organized thought. Several of her friends sang beautifully, and her uncle tied it all together with a powerful and spiritual talk. My talk is below:
What a gift I have been given to spend a week thinking
about our sweet Janna, her life and the impact she made on each of us. My time with Janna was a much shorter
duration than a lot of you who had the opportunity to know and love her for
most of her life. She and I knew from
the start that there were bigger powers at work in bringing us together. It has been a beautiful privilege to know and
love her and call her my friend.
I met Janna when she interviewed me for a job at the
clinic. I knew the moment I met her that she was something special. If you would have told me then, that 2 years
later I would have to say good bye to my now dear friend, and speak at her
funeral, I would have called you crazy, but I would do it all again in a
heartbeat. She changed me. She changed us.
Janna wore many hats in her life. She preferred her hats to be colorful,
fashionable, and crafted by her own hands.
She starred in the role of daughter, sister, aunt, friend, mother and
devoted wife.
-Janna’s work hat was the first I witnessed. She was loved by her co workers, if you can
call them that, they were her friends, and she loved them dearly. It was a blessing to work behind a glass
window due to the rowdiness that took place so often.
-I was blessed to call her my friend, and that is a hat she
helped me become better at wearing. She welcomed me into her life and family
easily and completely.
-I witnessed Janna’s wife hat shortly after that, and she
wore it well. Janna loved James with her whole heart. Those two were quite a
pair. In the last few months especially, I caught them gazing at each other and
I couldn’t help but feel like I was intruding. It seems appropriate that they were together
when she took her last breath.
-If anyone wore a mother’s hat well, it was our Janna. She became exactly the mother she intended to
be. A Hands on, dance in the kitchen, laugh until it hurts, kiss a scraped
knee, hike ‘til you drop, sing at the top of your lungs kind of mom. She loved her children fiercely, and I have
no doubt she is mothering her happy heart out from the other side.
-She adored both her mom and dad, and each of her
siblings. She spoke of each of them with
so much love that when I met them I could see them through her eyes.
-The last hat Janna wore was a heavy one. It was one of a physical and emotional
trial. She bore it with grace and
dignity, with endurance, strength, and humility.
I read through the memories many of you posted on her
Facebook page and nearly every one of them mentioned her ability to bring joy
into your lives. She lifted,
strengthened, brightened, softened, and loved each of us. Her capacity to bring sunshine to any space
was remarkable. Several months ago I began to write a letter to her. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t find the words. Last week I tried again. The words would not come. So today I would like to share my letter to
our sweet Janna with you.
Dear Janna,
How’s heaven? Please
tell me there’s Coke there. I guess there
would have to be if it’s heaven. How is
your Grandpa? Did he miss you for those
few days you had apart? Lucky guy.
Behave yourselves enough to not get kicked out, but create enough mischief to
shake things up and keep people on their toes.
I miss you so much friend. We all
are trying to find our footing in a world without you in it. You
are quite possibly the most loved lady in the world. I wish you had a chance to read all the
amazing things your friends and family wrote about you before you ditched
us. There is some good stuff in
there. I loved reading about the
silliness you were involved in, the chaos you helped create, the joy you
spread, and the hearts you touched.
In my 37 years on this earth I haven’t met anyone quite
like you. You made me a better
person. Your optimism shaped my
mothering, your kindness softened my edges, your humor eased my grouchy
days. You taught me that even when
you’re suffering yourself, that helping others is always the answer. From you I learned that there is no such
thing as having too much spray paint, that Coke and coconut can fix a lot, and
crafting makes the world a better place.
You showed me by example that it’s ok to let your kids figure things
out, and to be there when they need you.
Sharing a few Pinterest boards with you reminded me that it is less
about what we are making, than the
memories we are making. Hey, by the way,
thanks for leaving a whole shed full of miscellaneous craft supplies out back to
sort out. That will be a fun one to go through.
I know the last 15 months were not all sunshine and
rainbows, but Jan you handled it with grace, optimism and a splash of
stubbornness when necessary. There were
a lot of days with disappointing news. I
watched you take those days by the reins, bow your head, grieve, pray, lift
your head and continue forward with determination.
I am grateful that you are happy again, that your body is
no longer a prison, and that you are with your loved ones who have gone before
you. I miss you like crazy, save a spot
for me and I will see you before you know it.
Love, Jul
I know Janna wants many things for us whom she left
behind. She would want us to take our
lives by the reins, bow our heads and take the time to grieve, pray, and then
lift our heads and continue forward with determination. So, don’t worry about the extra calories when
you drink a Coke, or eat dessert, take the time to sit in that hot tub, jump on
the bed with your kids, don’t sweat the small stuff, get outdoors with your
families, think of Janna when you’re at Disneyland, and live your life to the
fullest with those you love. We ought to
remember to put on our positive pants as Janna used to say and get living. She would want you to.
I know that Janna is safe in the arms of our Father in
Heaven. I am grateful for a Savior who
knew the journey Janna would be on was tough, but He was with her every step of
the way. It seems a long way off before we will see her again, but I know we will see her again. She will be there with that giant smile, and
open arms. Love you Jan.
