Dear Anne,
I miss you. Tomorrow would have been your 61st
birthday, and you’ve been gone almost five years already.
I miss your hearty telephone
greeting: “Janis!” I miss your overbearing personality. I miss your tender heart carefully hidden
beneath a gruff exterior. I miss your
sense of humor and verbal word play. I
miss your hand gripping mine and your piercing gaze.
I still count those 66 days with you
at the end of your life as a cherished yet profoundly difficult time. I am so grateful that I was able to be your
support and advocate. Those long hours
at your bedside taught me the ministry of presence. So human and so holy, that time bound me to
you in your suffering. I learned the
tiniest fraction of Christ’s sacrificial love.
Anne, far more than I feared you as
a child (you really were the older sister from hell!), I love you and miss you. I’m glad you found the missing true love of
your life, Jesus, at the very end.
Love,
Janis
