The Loss Of A Spectacularly Unique One Of A Kind

September starts as a real banger. Labor day weekend was spent feeling as gloomy as the weather for me and I cried as much as it rained; three days worth. I thought how ironic it was that the thing I wanted to be doing the most on labor day was to be laboring in someone’s yard, pitching mulch or rock or laying weed barrier in the dirt under sunny skies. Instead I was having an internal crisis and the only way for that to end was to run the course and look forward to Tuesday when I could return to outdoor labor and be out of the internal flood watch I was personally under. Sometimes the dam just breaks am I right?

Tuesday

Tuesday, back at work. I was relieved to just be out of the house and out of watching rain so my spirits were lifted although not by my normal standard of lifted spirits. I found myself gravitating to trying to separate myself from the work tribe for fear of more tears and I was really tired of tears at this point. I knew everyone felt my “off vibes” which I hated but sometimes you’re off, and the facade that you’re not is just not worth the reach. Truth is, I didn’t want to participate in the obvious conversation of how was your weekend.

I finally shared a little of my mood shift with my friend as I knew it was important to even though it sounded like the worst idea regarding more tears but I had sat with just myself too long already. Then at 11:50 a.m. I received a text message from my cousin that her Mom, my Aunt, had been admitted to hospital on Monday, went downhill rapidly and was now taken off of life support. Wait! What? It was truly a shock and I felt a wave of grief crash into me in an instant. We were about to break for lunch so I headed home to make lunch for Dad, and to cry. Before returning back to work I got the next text that Aunt Jan had passed at 12:24. The rest of this past week was spent with memory floods of Aunt Jan and a deep sadness for having the insight on what all my cousins were now experiencing; it is one of the hardest things anyone goes through. Losing your Mom is like an alteration off one’s entire relationship with gravity; your center seems off. Losing your Mom is something that never settles as something you file away and close a book on, you just continue to live without them here with a certain feeling you did not have before.

The Cool Aunt

Jan was my cool Aunt. She was also my Godmother. She was also the only Aunt I knew growing up. She, being the youngest of my Mother’s sisterhood of four in total. She and my Mom were the last two and the older two were pretty spread out in age. I never really knew the other sisters while growing up and can count on one hand the times I remember being in their company. Be that as it was, Jan was still the coolest to me. I saw her the most growing up and she brought sunshine when she would come around with her love of laughter and silliness. She was 12 years older than I and not so old that I couldn’t see her young college age self when I was coming of age. Her with her cool clothes that were striking on her tall statuesque build, her trendy hairdos of the day and her mustang car. I can remember thinking she represented what I could see for myself, independence and confidence.

I remember being at one of her places she lived when she was maybe 22 or so and I sat on the floor going through her album collection. I was so impressed by all her records and it was an etched memory that I think led me to collecting music. At the time, it was the most albums I had ever seen and I was pulled in by the names and the artwork. Turns out Aunt Jan had quite the wide range of musical taste as I was turned on to artists like Vanilla Fudge, Jimi Hendrix, The Moody Blues, Led Zeppelin, Credence Clearwater Revival, The Supremes and Herb Alpert just to name ones I can remember off hand. I was ten or so and it was my first real musical experience on another level. It was quite different than the Elvis Presley and 50’s rock my Mom was so into and it solidified that Jan was cool just on this musical principle for me.

When Jan was coming for a Holiday it always was something I looked forward to. My Mom had a very rather tormented relationship with Holidays. They had a way of making her so very anxious about them being perfect that the tendency for them to go sideways was imminent. Jan’s presence helped distract Mom from what must have been her feelings of everything not following some impossible script she assigned herself. I don’t know if I ever told Jan how much her presence at Holidays made for the best ones I remember as a kid. I also remember the Christmas that she gifted me with a watch. I was nine or so and I was overwhelmed as I gazed upon the Timex piece with it’s small round face with gold and the pale green leather band making it both hip and elegant. What I really remember is the feeling it gave me. I thought, Jan doesn’t see me as a baby and she sees me as someone worthy of such a gift. I remember my Mom even reacted with a bit of surprise on the grown-up look of the watch. I don’t recall what happened to that watch but the memory of the day I got it still lives strong in my head and heart. That one gift to that nine year old solidified a bond I would always carry with Jan as at the time, I felt seen.

The Jean & Jan Show

Another aspect of Jan coming around was to witness the sibling act of the two of them. They were six years apart in age, I think as close as any of the other siblings were in age but at any rate the younger/older sister dynamic most assuredly came through. They were very close and Jan adored my Mom. The feeling was mutual even though my Mom would act more coy about it. I don’t know though if there has ever been any duo more capable of laughing sessions to a degree more out worldly than those two. I can remember hearing them laugh themselves sick late into the wee hours from my bed and it was like music to my ears even though I would want to join in but I also remember thinking how great it was they had their sacred sister time at those wee hours of the nights when they were together.

It’s not like my brother and I didn’t get in on some of that laugh til you hurt stuff though. Laughing was just going to happen with Jan around. Partly due to her rather filterless way of blurting things out which would shock or horrify others at times, yet always resulting in her thinking it was funny and before you knew it, everyone was laughing too. I figured out that it was rather a move of hers to get reaction then have the capability to tone it all back down with laughter. I don’t know why she loved that so much but she did and she was a master of it. This was real apparent in the younger sister behavior towards my Mom. She loved to poke that bear. At some point I finally realized my Mom was acting madder or more annoyed then she actually was and was a role of my Moms in their duet bit. It didn’t ruin the dynamic, it made it funnier somehow.

Nothing could really ramp this up like a board game and Jan always wanted to play the silly ones like Operation or I think her favorite, Feeley Meeley. If you aren’t familiar with this very high brow board game, the premise is a box with a hole cut out of each side big enough to put a hand through and filled with various random items. A card is turned to depict the item that everyone goes into the box to find by feeling. That’s it. This game had a way of really turning up the volume in the house as Jan would at some point accuse Jean of taking the winning piece out of her hand as they would be hand grappling in the box. My Mom would act mad at her and tell her to “get a grip” which would make Jan laugh so hard that her always reliable next go to move was announcing pants wetting. My brother Mark and I would be in stitches as Mom would punk Jan out over that and Jan would just laugh all the harder while running to the bathroom. Jean was good at playing the straight guy but board games with Jan would have us all holding our sides. The sound of loud laughter would fill the room and the souls all around.

I don’t know if Jan knew it or not and I am not sure if I ever mentioned it to her or not but she saved more than one Holiday for Mark and I and that was a pretty huge deal to me. She was a buffer between laughter and depression on several occasions.

Jan gave me a duty at her and my Uncle’s wedding too. She gave me the honor of sitting at the table with the book to sign. As far as I was concerned it was an important job. I had never even been to a wedding never mind having a function at one. That was a very big deal to me and like the watch a few years before, I again felt like Jan saw me. Once Jan was married it was strange almost seeing her step into being a Mom. It was so exciting having a baby cousin to hold. But things changed in terms of how often we gathered as Jan walked the Motherhood and work path and I entered the crazy teen years. It would never be the same but the bond remained. Jan’s firstborn, Amy was the only baby of hers I ever was around as she had three more after Amy. I remember when Amy was born how nervous Jan was in her new role. She seemed to think she was inadequate at the job and was rather hard on herself. I can remember my Mom advising her to relax with the role but ironically my Mom confessed to similar feelings about it. Jan once told me she always felt like she wasn’t a good Mom which made me sad for her to feel that way. I guess all us Moms could say the exact same thing though. It’s a responsibility that pales to any other. I learned too through Jan that the role of being an Aunt is a very fulfilling one as one can un-clench the fists a bit as an Aunt vs being a Mom, over scrutinizing your every Mom move and thoughts.

Jan Goes To Nashville

In the 29 years I was in Tennessee, Jan only made it out one time. She attended my wedding in 1998. Flew in solo and was living large on her big adventure. She truly was having a ball. Turns out though that ball on rehearsal dinner night rolled up into next level at the wedding reception as Jan decided it would be cool to grab a glass of wine or three off of trays that waiters were walking around with during the cocktail hour before dinner. I recall her telling me at one point that she normally doesn’t drink wine but the wine we were serving was so good! I could tell she was getting tipsy but she was fine, having a great time and more food was on the way. During the sit down dinner I guess Jan rather disappeared at some point. I was not privy to any of this at the time that my Mom became concerned about where she was.

Finally Mom went on a search for her. Not in the church building. Not in the bathroom, Nowhere in the tent where the party was. She looked in her car to see if she was there and on the way there, turning the corner of the building by the parking lot, there was Jan, on her knees, hands up on the brick building, ridding herself of the wine she had previously enjoyed so much. Mom was rather mad about this whole scenario and wasted no time scolding Jan as she helped her up and to the bathroom to freshen up. Jan told Mom she was better and she could return to the tent much to Mom’s doubts. At some point while I was on the dance floor my Mom mentioned Jan had too many and had gotten sick. I felt awful for her and hoped she didn’t feel embarrassment. I asked Mom where she was now and she said she came back to the tent but she was “tired of babysitting her”. Classic sibling stuff as grown women and I could only laugh. A few minutes later I spotted Jan from the dance floor. She was sitting in my chair at the head table; all alone, chair dancing to the music having what looked like bliss as she was eating chocolate dipped strawberries. That vision of her will forever be seared in my heart and I remember thinking, what a re-bounder! She looked absolutely content with not a care in the world and I thought, you go Jan, soak it all up.

She also loved to tell the tale of while she was staying in Nashville with Mom while we were on honeymoon, one morning our dog Mick got out of the house and took off on her. She panicked. She hit the trail after him, through vine thickets, wet rocks following a creek and mud everywhere. She lost sight of him after a few minutes and was yelling his name all the way back to our house where she proceeded to have to wake my Mom. Nobody wants that. She said, “Jean, Mick got out and I can’t find him anywhere.” My Mom replied, “You’re dead.” Jan said, “thanks a lot” and Mom said, “I hope he comes back for your sake.” I don’t know if Mom bothered to tell Jan that Mick getting out was kind of a regular thing. The dog was like living with Houdini and it was always stressful but we got used to the stress as he always turned home even if it was two days later. Most often though someone would call from one of three different fast food joints closest to our house where Mick was being purchased a meal and while he ate his tag would get read and we would get the call. We would say, “Can you please wait and hold him for us? He will run away if he sees us so if you could hold on to him that would be awesome” and off we would go to pick up Mick. This is what happened for Jan but not before she sat around for hours sweating bullets about losing my dog.

My friend Dee tells of meeting Aunt Jan and at some point through some strange conversation evolution Jan declares her being from her Mom’s old eggs. To this day Dee finds that hilarious. While surprised, sort of , that Dee heard of this, we had heard it before as Jan when backed into a corner for something would throw the old eggs card down. I do think she thought there may have been something to that but mostly she used it as a real social party launcher. She was hilarious and she was great at finding humor over herself. She was a person who either could not help having no filters or intentionally lived boldly without them. To be honest I am not sure which but suffice it to say she lived pretty full throttle when it came to the thinking/talking thing and she had the art of shock down pat.

My Dad

Since moving here I did get to see Jan and Uncle John more than the previous visits when coming to visit from Tennessee. I invited Jan and John a couple of times to Wahoo to Dad’s house to watch Husker games and Jan would get giddy over these invitations. It was so cool to learn about what Jan called her “girlhood crush” on my Dad. I had no idea of this. How could I ? Dad was rather a forbidden topic as far as my Mom was concerned so I never really thought about Jan knowing my Dad to be honest. She told me during those football games, stories of how she would make Mom so mad because she wanted to go on their dates and sometimes Dad would say, “she can come” which really got my Mom mad. She said she thought my Dad was the coolest. He had a cool car and looked cool and she told me he was always so nice to her and she felt seen by him. Funny, that is how I thought of Jan at about the exact same age as she was when my Mom and Dad were dating. I was so happy to hear of this little tidbit from her eyes from a time I knew not much about. It was adorable how it seemed Jan rather turned into that 10 year old girl crush in the company of Dad the few times we all gathered over the past three years or so. It was like seeing my Aunt with a whole different perspective and it made me wonder that much more about what all Jan’s hopes and dreams were back then and beyond.

The Final Four

Jan was the last of the four sisters to depart planet earth. It bothered her to have that distinction; “being the last one left”. The four Kelley sisters are now reassembled for choir, all with their lovely voices together in a way they all weren’t down here on this passing through place. The branch of Leo Kelley’s clan on the family tree is bare now but the they created are still here to carry on the stories. We all are part of the losing of our Mother’s club now and it is my hope that we hold up against the pain and loss and grief that takes us into. There is also resolve to tighten our own ships up and to carry on and project our own character and to also keep the stories and the laughter echoing down this earthly chamber of life. I am happy to have been born into a clan that if anything, can weather some storms carrying laughter through even our tears as our oars. We have those behind us watching and seeking for the stories that families can provide them with. The good and the bad. Jan loved hard her way. She bore four beautiful people into the world which then turned into 11 beautiful grandchildren. A legacy to be sure and I am sure they will carry it as such going forward.

As I sat at the funeral Monday, in the church where Jan was married 51 years ago I could not help but think that there sure seemed like a whole lot more people at Jan’s funeral than there was at her wedding. It seems her sparkly eyes, great smile and fun company were contagious in many arenas of her life. I will always respect Jan for being the sister from her clan that kept up with all of the sisters. She truly was a woman who loved people and wished for them to stay connected. She was adverse to riffs between siblings and anyone she loved. I saw that in her with her sisters and her kids. I will truly miss her. I am also truly grateful that we were spared seeing further decline in her. She was not happy not being the social butterfly anymore, being home all of the time and not able to drive. She was beginning to live a life not suited for her spirit at all. I love her freedom now with the contentment of 1000 chocolate covered strawberries and a welcoming choir fit for all the favorite Aunts and Mamas.

This my friends is what has been on my mind all week.

Keep your people close and your gratitude closer; your laughter loud and prayers louder.

L