Tribute to a Friend...

by

Patti Dickinson

On Saturday, I attended a memorial service for a friend of mine that lost her four year battle with lung cancer in January of this year.  Janice and I were friends for thirteen years.  We met on the soccer field at St. Ann's.  Her husband, Jim was coaching a team of kids, my son Andrew, included, from Ilya's Kindergarten class, while Janice was shoving the stroller through a bumpy terrain of dirt, rocks and grass, with eighteen-month old Nicholas in the driver's seat.  Out of breath, she extended her hand to introduce herself, and that is how our friendship began.

We shared a gamut of firsts with our kids.  First lost tooth, first solo on the two wheeler, first soccer goal, first spelling test, first performance at the Westwood View Talent Show.  

During a bumpy patch with my oldest daughter, Elizabeth, Janice stood with me on the sidewalk of the elementary school, her trademark giant McDonald's Coke in her hand, listening to daily updates on the angst of raising this particular kid and dispensing advice while we waited for our kids.

She was a doer, a strong woman who stood her ground.  Her moral compass was always pointed due north.  She was a champion of the underdog.  Beneath that tough exterior was a woman who could get teary at a perceived injustice. But she didn't just stop there, she did what she could do to right that wrong. And oh yes.  Courage.  Janice fought the good fight at the unseen enemy called cancer.  For four years.

In Janice's last weeks, I had the privilege of sitting with her at Hospice House. Oftentimes, I just held her hand while we sat in a comfortable silence.  Her last days were filled with visits from her sisters, Barb and Judy, her dad and her college roommate, Renee, her husband and her two sons.  I hope the family knows how much I appreciate them making room for me in the quiet family vigil.  I am honored to have been part of that.