In Memory of Jane Triplett, 1943-2008
It's very easy to do a simple life story for Jane. There are so many things that I can say about her.
Jane loved LeRoy, her family, her friends, and her cat, Daisy. She loved crossword puzzles and made the greatest deviled eggs ever. Gardening was her life. She knew the exact spot where something should go. She had to have been the biggest health food nut on the planet, and it suited her well. She was great at her job, and tried to be computer literate, but she did need some help at times. She loved collecting frogs, and happily took on the burden of penguins too. Always, always, she was the first person out to help me with the dishes during the holidays. I can still remember her drying dishes with me in Grandma's tiny, no dishwasher kitchen.
She was also generous beyond measure. Never make the mistake of mentioning you needed something. It would suddenly become yours, and more than what you needed in the process. That crockpot in the front? While it's a good symbol of how much she loved to cook, I really brought it as an example of her generosity. That's just for me. One person. You can feed an army with that thing. You should see my microwave. And I'm very surprised by how upset I am that there will never be another chance to try and draw her name for Christmas. She was so much fun to shop for.
And then there's her smile. It lit up a whole room. Big and bright. You see the picture. The last time I saw it was the Saturday before she passed away. Earlier in the week I had brought her some old quilts to use, because hospital blankets suck. They're thin and boring. So I brought her thick and colorful. That Saturday I saw her, she was using the blankets. As I was leaving, because she was just too tired to have guests, I commented that at least she was colorful. And I got graced with that beautiful and big smile one last time. I can still picture it clearly. It kills me I was a week too late starting a quilt for her. I really wanted to give her something colorful made especially for her that she could wrap herself in. I am not looking forward to the day I have to give it up to Dornbecher's. Only then will she truly be gone for me.
The day she passed away, I was alone at LeRoy's house waiting for them to pick up her hospital bed. While I was there, her friend Dave Skarra called. Even though LeRoy wasn't there, and Dave had no idea who I was, he thankfully started telling me some stories about Jane's life. How they went to college together, about Jane's life as a manager of her business, and a lot of other stuff I didn't know. But as Dave was talking, I'm forced to confess that all I could really focus on thinking was "Jane went to college?"
And it's not what you think. Jane was by far smart enough to go to college. I'm actually surprised she didn't finish with a degree. What shocked me most about my conversation with Dave was the knowledge that Jane had a life I wasn't around to know about.
Because this is the heart of what I'd like to say today. So far, I have really told you nothing. I've only mentioned her likes, and maybe a few physical attributes. But I haven't told you about WHO Jane Triplett really was.
So let me tell you now.
Jane Ellen Triplett was my aunt. I cannot tell you when I met her, and I don't care. It doesn't matter. It's hard to imagine there was ever a time she wasn't my aunt. That she ever held a last name other than Triplett is unfathomable. To me, Jane has always been there, even if she led a life before me where she went to college. My mom told her right before she passed away, "You may legally be my sister-in-law, but in my heart, you are simply my sister." I know exactly how my mom felt. Jane didn't marry LeRoy and become my uncle's wife. To me, she was always Jane, my aunt.
But as it became more and more obvious that Jane was leaving us behind, I can't help it. I started thinking about what I would like to say when this day came. Even more so after she left. It's an honor to stand here and talk about her to you all today. But when Deanna and I were reminiscing about Jane, Grandma, and Grandpa, I realized something very significant. It's this:
When I wrote the eulogies for my grandparents, I thought it important to acknowledge a simple fact: they weren't always nice people. And I said that. That is a part of who they were. The good and the bad. Not everyone is without fault one hundred percent of the time. The point to loving someone is to still love and accept them when they're maybe not as nice as you would like.
Now I can tell you at least one fault of pretty much everyone I know. But after 20 years of knowing her, I cannot tell you Jane's. LeRoy probably can, but I can't. The worst that I could think of was that maybe she was a bit more accident prone than she should have been.
I believe this is the most significant memory I will keep of her. Jane was nice. She was a nice person. I cannot think of a higher compliment for her.
Jane did not have to choose to be a part of our family. More important, she didn't have to choose to stay. She could have told LeRoy no. She could have left at any day. But she didn't. She chose to share her life with us, and I know I am not the only one grateful for that.
And while I can go on and on and on about how unfair it is that she is not still here - or how much I will miss her - I am going to keep one thing in mind: While her loss is immensely huge, and can never be replaced, I think the biggest loss would have been if I had never known her at all.