JLR ~ 4/24/64–5/27/05

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He tells her, "I want to paint you naked on a big brass bed
with bright orange poppies all around your head."
And she says, "Crazy old man, I'm not young anymore."
"That's all right," he whispers, "I've never painted before…
I want to read your tea leaves by candle light.
On a fat velvet sofa, I want to be with you all night.
I want to tickle your feet with a peacock plume."
And she says, "Can you talk a little softer, there are people in the room!"
And Jane says, "My children brought me here and promised me they'd call.
You know kids forget that's just the way of it all."
And he says, "Well, that makes us both footloose and fancy free,
so Jane do you want to come see the Painted Desert with me?
"Do you love me Lady Jane, Lady Jane?
Do you love me Lady Jane, Lady Jane?
You got me talkin' to the moon, you got me walkin' in the rain.
Do you love me, do you love me Lady Jane?
Do you love me?
Do you love me like I love you, Lady Jane?"

- "Painted Desert Serenade" - Joshua Kadisson
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In the garden of my life, J was a rose. We were friends for 22 years and never have I met anyone so selfless and so giving to everyone she loved. She made me a better person for knowing her and having her example in my life.

I met J when she was pregnant with her son. The father had run out on her, which devastated her heart. But she was strong. She took on single parenting to the little life inside of her as if there were no other choice, because to her there wasn’t. She knew she’d manage – and she did, with grace if not always with ease.

A few years later she again became pregnant. She was engaged to this guy and things seemed well. But he had problems. In time he ended up in jail and again J was alone, with 2 young kids to raise. She lamented over her broken heart, but her disposition never soured. Life was what it was to J. You play the hand you have been dealt, it’s what you do.

J lived with diabetes and its various complications, and was ill much of the time. She always told me, matter of factly and without drama, that she knew she wouldn’t live very long - and that the state of her health and the fact that she had two children out of wedlock had her fairly convinced she would die a single woman. No man would want such a baggaged woman like her. I told her that was nonsense. Someday she would meet a man who would love her for the sparkling beautiful woman she is, inside and out.

Music brought us together, and we made tapes for each other for the duration of our friendship. One day I gave J the above song, telling her to listen closely, because she was someone’s Lady Jane and one day he would find her. One day she’d be loved by him so much, that what pain he couldn’t take away for her, he would have such understanding and offer such comfort that it would be just as well. She loved the song, but only sadly responded to the idea, “I don’t think it’s meant to be for me … ”

Cancer took my beloved friend a year ago this Saturday. I have grieved deeply from the loss of her during this time, but am transferring my emotions to rejoicing. Rejoicing that she is finally free from the pain in her body and the pain in her heart. Rejoicing in the thought that she is finally being loved the way she should have always been, in the all comforting arms of the One who truly sees her beauty. Any time I see a rainbow, I feel her with me. In those rainbows, I hear her voice - letting me know she is happy now.

Remembering you this weekend, J. I’ll see you again, dear friend.