It rocked me to hear this morning of Janna Glebe's death last night. She was just a kid, in her late 60s. I instinctively called Elsa at work, who - sensing my sadness and turmoil - suggested I use the rest of the day to think of how Janna touched my life.
The
first time I set eyes on Janna, she was around 3 years old and her aunt Anita
Synnestvedt was taking care of her and brought her by Harold and Clara
Pitcairn's for a paddle in their pool. I
was enchanted.
As
they grew up and throughout their lives, the two Synnestvedt girls - Freya and
Janna - were good foils for each other.
Freya was outgoing and daring, ready to climb trees that left manly men
of 12 years old quaking. Janna was quieter and quietly wound her way into my
heart.
Our
paths crossed over and over and over. I
was a friend of her parents and had the fun of watching her grow up. Later, we had daughters - my youngest, her
oldest - in the same class throughout elementary school and high school.
Most of the time, we lived on the same side of town. Many's the time I would walk past their house - perched up on sort of a little cliff overlooking Fettersmill Road - on my way to or from the Valley and would hear, "Hello, Kay!" from the drive or from the way-high-up porch.
Most of the time, we lived on the same side of town. Many's the time I would walk past their house - perched up on sort of a little cliff overlooking Fettersmill Road - on my way to or from the Valley and would hear, "Hello, Kay!" from the drive or from the way-high-up porch.
Our
husbands, relatively quiet men, always found plenty to talk about, what with
Ted being a builder & carpenter and Pete a lumberman & cabinetmaker.
Recently, we participated in the same discussion group, although I had not been since last year. Just last month, Janna wrote & called me - she was kicking herself for not stopping by to see me, but had been "under the weather." Even though Freya recently told me her sister was not doing well, I thought she must be mistaken - Janna sounded so good to me on the phone.
Recently, we participated in the same discussion group, although I had not been since last year. Just last month, Janna wrote & called me - she was kicking herself for not stopping by to see me, but had been "under the weather." Even though Freya recently told me her sister was not doing well, I thought she must be mistaken - Janna sounded so good to me on the phone.
From
the moment I saw her pool-side at Cairncrest, I sensed something magical about
Janna. It went beyond her artistic
talents, which included creating exquisite elf-land sculptures that stole the
heart with their beauty and charm.
Remarkably talented with her hands, Janna was talented at carefully crafting
friendships as well. She was remarkably
self-effacing, able to deflect a well-earned compliment with a laugh and light
comment. I felt that Janna had
difficulty seeing the incredible special qualities that were so apparent to my
eye. An interesting thing about her -
she never seemed to age. They say that
only the good die young, but I think that is twisted 'round - the truth is that
the good seem always young.
This
loss has hit me hard. The only thing
that makes this moment, when my sadness is so fresh, bearable is remembering
how Willard closed Pete's memorial service and applying it to my friend, Janna
- she was taken from us because the Lord has need of her.
Sending
out a cosmic hug tonight to my dear and doubly appreciated circle of friends. Love to all - Kay
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