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Her Name Was Janet
Janet Lardas. You knew her as Quilter.
She died yesterday. Cancer claimed her after a three-year fight.
She was my wife. She was also my closest friend, my lover, my confidant, my biggest cheerleader, and my most trusted advisor.
I loved her. Very much.
Now she is gone. I am bereft. I will miss her terribly.
We were married for over forty years. Over that time we had three sons and watched them grow into productive adults. We built a home together. With her support I built a career. She made things – everything from quilts to furniture.
Her guidance saved me from disaster on several occasions. She pulled me back to earth when my dreams went too high, but let me follow them when they were not folly. She understood the difference.
She was absolutely fearless, except for one thing. She was afraid of being noticed. I don’t know why, but she was. When we joined Ricochet we originally used our real names. That was okay because Ricochet was a forum behind a paywall. Then she saw our names turn up on a web search and asked me to use a handle. She suggested the names. I became Seawriter and she became Quilter. Then at her request Seawriter and Quilter became just Seawriter.
I tried to talk her into commenting. That was the reason I ended all my comments with Seawriter. When she commented she would end hers with Quilter. But she never commented. She did not want to be noticed. (I guess I can skip the Seawriter from now on.)
We met when she was fourteen and I was seventeen. We married when she was nineteen and I was twenty-one. We had a choice of wedding dates: the last weekend in April or the first in May. We married in May because that date was after her nineteenth birthday and her mother did not want her daughter to get married at eighteen.
They say May marriages are unlucky. They say marriages made when you are in your teens don’t last. They were right. Right on both counts. This marriage was far shorter than it should have been. We should have grown old together, but we got unlucky.
If you are married, do me a favor. Today give your spouse a hug, a kiss, and tell them you love them. For no particular reason – just because. You will never regret having done that. After you no longer can, you will regret every opportunity you passed up doing so. That hour might arrive sooner than you think.
I do not know what the future holds for me. If I avoid bad luck (or perhaps if I am unlucky enough – today I cannot decide) I could easily live another thirty years. My dad is in his nineties, and still going strong. My grandparents all reached their late eighties. But it will be a life without her.
Whatever the future holds I know this: there will always be a Janet-shaped hole in my heart.
Only time can lift the dense fog that sets in when a spouse is lost. Eventually the good memories overtake the difficult ones. You discover sunlight again. Take in the love of friends and family. They are there for you. We all know that life is a gift with an expiration, yet we are surprised when it disappears. I wish you all the best.
Invaluable advice – and not just with one’s spouse. As I get older, I realize more and more that if you have something nice to say to someone, then say it – don’t hold back thinking you’ll wait until “a better time.” You never know if that “better time” will come.
I’ve been married 48 years. My wife and I married when we were 19. I can only say that just thinking of your loss deeply saddens me because I know how I would feel if I lost my life’s partner. Please accept my deepest sympathy and the hug I would give you if we were together.
I found the wedding album I could not locate yesterday. Janet on our wedding day.
Her mother made the wedding dress.
I’m so sorry to hear of your loss, Mark. I wanted to write more, but words are failing me. My heart goes out to you.
Jeff
My goodness! She looks like my cousin Linda, glasses and all. Very lovely.
So very, very sorry for your loss.
Ah, Seawriter , my condolences, it’s been 10 years for me, it does get easier, right now you have to just put one foot in front of the other for a while. You will find that oddly, she’s still there , every time you need to make a decision you will know what she would say. In your interactions with your children and grandchildren you will know what she would want you to do. You will still chuckle at something that was an inside joke between you. I have six grandchildren that she never knew on earth but my daughters feel she knew them before they were born. Be at peace and know that she would want you to be happy until you meet again.
I am so sorry to hear of the loss of the love of your life. Your piece about her was just beautiful. Tears while reading it.
Eternal rest grant unto her O Lord and may perpetual light shine upon her.
Oh what a beautiful life you two lived together. My heart aches for you. May the good Lord embrace Janet and shine eternally on her. My sympathies to the entire family. You all will be in my prayers tonight.
I am so sorry Seawriter. What a wonderful tribute to Quilter.
So young! So beautiful! Thank you for sharing with us.
Beautiful. Just absolutely beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful picture. Life really is wonderful. Thanks for reminding us.
Please accept my condolences, Seawriter, on the loss of an extraordinary lady. My heart hurts for you, but my spirit rejoices that you and Janet found each other in the first place. You are in my prayers, sir.
Very sorry to hear about your loss. Janet sounds like a wonderful person with whom to have shared your life. My prayers are with you.
I know that hearts and minds connect across miles and miles and that the love and caring from all of us is gently settling around your shoulders as you’ve moved through these heart-breaking days. Holding you in my prayers and sending a tender hug.
We’ve been married 38 years. I’m not sure if I want to die first, and put her through that, or die second, and go through it myself.
Condolences and prayers –
Now is the time for sowing with tears. I cannot imagine your loss.
When you sit down to the dinner table with your family or friends tonight, the hard truth is that eventually only one of you will be left.
My heart goes out to you, Seawriter.
~La Tapada – Introvert & quilter.
I pray you find peace.
I wish I had the right words to convey how sorry I am. Thank you for sharing your beautiful remembrance with us. I’ll pray for you, and Quilter, too.
Thought of Quilter (and you) when I read this reflection on Mary:
Oh Seawriter. My deepest condolences. Praying that you will have a strength that is from heaven, a deep and remarkable peace, the glimmer of joy that flashes in unexpected ways, and the kind of comfort that only God can give. May you be carried through these next days, weeks and months by Him, and by all the family and friends who lovingly and clumsily come to your aid.
Mark,
I am so sorry for your loss.
I lost my Marilee ten years ago to cancer and I was a zombie for months. I just lost my friend Michael to cancer this last weekend, and his Celebration of Life is on Friday.
Mark, you are a person who would be there for others under these circumstances. It is now your turn. Let people be there for you and let their love and support in.
There are two books I keep in my office that I give out to people in crisis. I’ve given out 500 copies of “How to Survive the Loss of a Love” and 100 copies of “I Wasn’t Ready to Say Good-bye.” Both are available from amazon.com. I urge you to get both and when the time is right, pick them up. The right words will be waiting for you. Another good book is “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.”
Also, most non-profit hospices provide free grief groups for people who have lost a spouse, parent, or child. I suggest that you follow up with them.
I also will tell “non-believers” that this could be a good time to return to the church of their youth, and to receive the solace and love that is waiting for them.
What you are facing is not one day at a time; sometimes it is one breath at a time. Keep breathing.
I will hold you in my prayers.
Blessings.
Gary