janey

we grew up in a well-established old neighborhood.  our house was a nice roomy old edwardian two story with gingerbread trim and a wrap-around porch, right around the corner from grandma and grandpa.  my dad practically grew up in the house.  his closest friend lived there when they were kids.  so many memories left in that place.

next door, in the house on the corner lived pearl and hershel, an elderly woman and her slightly less elderly nephew.  across the street nancy and bill and their three girls.  catty-cornered on either side of that house.. grumpy old cigar smoking harenberg and his sweet wife sharon, and the carmazzis with their psychotic calico cat.  and in the house on our right, lived earl, his wife marcella, and their adult daughter janey.

janey was i think in her early 30s when we were born.  ma said she never saw anyone so excited to hold babies.  she was so careful yet exuberant.  she was a big girl with the warmest hug, short dark curly hair, and huge toothy smile.  i can remember having cardboard races down the front lawn and janey shouting... 'on your mark.. get set... GOOOOO!' or playing quietly on the front porch on a sunny day and hearing her race out to see a plane pass overhead.. we would all wave like maniacs.. thinking for sure they could see us.. yelling our heads off... 'HELLO UP THERE!!'

ma and dad had to set boundaries for janey.  she would just walk right in our house.  we didnt care.. it was janey!  but dad said it was inappropriate.  ma made sure we always treated janey with respect and dignity... that we never treated her differently than we would anyone else.  she was our friend and we loved her like family.

we were there when her dad passed.  we were there when she got her first job at odd lots.  we were there when marcella passed.  and years later, she was there for us when we lost our ma.  whenever i go back to visit my dad and sister, i make a special trip to see her.  she hasnt changed much.. just a little more stoop shouldered and instead of black curls, grey.  i sit and listen to her tell me about the planes, the cardboard races, and how cute we were when we were babies.  she tells me about how bad we were sometimes... how i fell asleep in their bushes and no one could find me, how we picked mr. baker's tulips one spring and gave them to ma. 

she tells me things about my ma.  i need to visit soon.