For Janine

Janine, my honorary back-up auxiliary mom, passed away last night in her sleep. I've been crying off and on all day as I've thought about Janine and remembered her and missed her. The world is not as lovely a place as it was, now that Janine is no longer with us.

Janine was encouraging in ways I never would have thought of. She got excited once listening to my Mom whistle; she was so impressed with how well my Mom could carry a tune whistling. When I was in high school, I had to write a critique of a poem. I did just that and acknowledged that I felt the poem had some flaws. My teacher berated me, writing on my essay, "Don't get above yourself. The woman who wrote this poem knows a lot more about literature than you do." I took that as my due, but Janine was irate. "That man probably never had an original thought of his own, that's why he needs to tear yours down!" Looking back now, I am forced to agree with Janine. What high school teacher would say something like that to a student?

My stories of Janine continue. In college, I had a Shakespeare professor who would award extra credit for any sonnets we wrote. I actually enjoy writing sonnets, so I wrote several for the class, one of which was about the Kenneth Starr report and was pretty dang funny, for being in perfect iambic pentameter. My professor simply noted that my sonnet, "Profaned the tradition of sonnets." When I complained of this in an email to Janine, she responded, "Write more sonnets that profane the tradition."

That's still good advice.

And Janine always gave excellent advice. Her number one rule was that whatever keeps you sane is the most important thing. "The people in your life, your husband and your children, need a wife and mother who is sane. It doesn't matter what else is going on, if you're not sane, you can't do any good. You have to stay sane, and whatever keeps you sane is what matters." This could be applied to how one cooked meals for the family, cleaned house, played with the kids. Whatever. I will always strive to live by this rule.

Janine saw the hand of God in everything in her life. And when she couldn't see the hand of God, she prayed and studied her scriptures and pondered until she could. Janine saw miracles in simple things like her son getting to watch a bit of the same Mariner's game that she had attended. (He was on his mission and an investigator took him to the Ichiro Museum; he wasn't breaking any rules.) It meant that even though her son was far away, he was still connected to her and Heavenly Father knew that and honored their relationship. It meant that even the Pacific Ocean couldn't divide her from her family. It meant that she hadn't really sacrificed her son when she had allowed him to leave and serve the Lord.

When I was able to break away from an abusive relationship and immediately found Craig, Janine pointed out the tremendous miracle that had occurred in my life. Later on as she waited patiently for miracles in her own life, she would chant to herself, "Alanna & Craig. Alanna & Craig" to remind herself that God was indeed a God of miracles and that He wouldn't let her down. And He didn't. There were so many miracles in Janine's life. She saw her own daughter recover from what had seemed like insurmountable health problems. She was able to hold on long enough to see both her children married to wonderful people and rest knowing that they would be well taken care of. Even a few weeks ago when she was able to regain some strength for a short time, she saw the miracle.

I have been missing the emails Janine used to send me for a long time, but now I just miss her. But even in my sorrow, I have to admit that I'm happy that Janine can finally breathe. Her lungs had never worked well after rounds of pneumonia as a child left scar tissue on them. She'd had a difficult time breathing as early as 2004, and from what I understand, lung problems such as these make a person feel like they are drowning all the time. There's a part of me that is very grateful that Janine no longer has to fight off the panic as she struggles to breathe. So I'm happy for Janine. But I am so sad for myself and for her family and for the rest of my own family, and for the rest of the world, too. The world is not as lovely a place as it was, now that Janine is no longer with us.

Thank you for being the best back up mom anyone could ask for, Janine. Thank you for all the lessons, for all the advice, for all the encouragement. Thank you for helping me to see the miracles. I love you. And I miss you. We all do.