Irish Connections

Grace McGarrigle contacted me today, asking how Jan and Brian are doing. We had a short talk, and she sent Brian her love.

Grace and another girl came to the US from Ireland one summer, and we all went to the beach together. She had a peculiar way of pronouncing "swimming suit", and was a wee thing.

She looked me up a year or two ago, and has been in contact since.

It reminded me of how far-flung we get in our connections, and how many ways we can miss someone. I was driving home from Montgomery Alabama yesterday, wishing I could call Mom and tell her of the adventures a bunch of Volvo enthusiasts from California, Maryland, and England (and all points between) could get into in the city of the White House of the Confederacy.. And I wish I could call her mother, as well. Mabel loved an adventure, too. Apples falling from trees and all that.

Michael

a hole in my life

A death puts a hole in your life where all the conversation and love used to be. It's Friday night, used to be pizza night on Tod St and often one of those British mysteries some Knodes seem to like. It seems like every day there's a point where I want to call and tell Jan something. And I can't. She may be looking down or over my shoulder but I can't tell. It sure does leave a big hole in my life.

When I am old I shall wear purple

Poem on Jan's kitchen wall
Warning
by Jenny Joseph

WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Family!

One of the shared joys with Jan was family and family history. We both have a strong sense of place and an even stronger sense of family. But for Jan, family wasn't just blood kin; she melded all of her friends and family into one great big, diverse and divergent, super-family. Others have seen it as well, I'm sure. She brought people together and then cemented them into a new organism of relationships and affections. We shared our discoveries about our families as we made them.

I remember her telling me of her relationship to the Crockets of Tennessee (yes, THOSE Crockets) and her relatives in the Dakotas and how she suspected that one of her relatives was actually a horse thief. I shared how my grandfather was jailed in Scotland for poaching on the Laird's estate. I recently found a map of Delmar in the late 1800s which showed spots familiar to her family.

She respected families and their fluidity and created new ones wherever she went.

My Friend, Jan

My friend Jan has given me many smiles in the past 25 years and many tears in the past few days. Jan and I shared a love for........wait for it........"Dancing With The Stars". We spent many a night on the phone watching the TV together, chatting and laughing and critiquing the dancers. And Brian would just shake his head at us. In my final conversation with her she was so full of optimism for their move to the eastern shore with Brian, to be close to her family and her roots. She was a special lady and I am blessed to have known her and to have called her friend.

From the Smiths

We have been so blessed to have known Jan. Jan was a wonderful, fun, vibrant woman. She truly was a gift to us all.

Barb Rick Zach and Jenny Smith

From Linda Berger

This comes to my mind the moment I say or hear her name.

Kindness
By: Lara Krumwiede

Kindness looks for the ways to help.
Kindness lets a friend go first.

Kindness tries to keep the peace.
Kindness never thinks the worst.

Kindness plays with everyone.
Kindness gives a loving touch.

Kindness speaks with gentle words.
Kindness never takes too much.

Kindness cares and kindness knows.
Kindness shares and kindness shows.

Request for digital pictures

Mark and I are putting together a digital photo album of Jan. If you have any pictures of Jan, you would like to include in the album please forward them to us. Frank at frank4645@comcast.net or Mark at issan@comcast.net. We will be displaying it Wednesday evening if it is ok with Brian.