They say you only get out of life what you put into it. 
I really don’t know what Jane put into life. 

  But what I do know is what she got out of it:

  To have such a group of loving, caring friends that took shifts by her side, laughing, crying, holding her hands and rubbing her feet for 2 years while she struggled with life… 

  She must have been a great friend.

To get the love she got from hundreds of friends and strangers that came to their aid when she and her family needed help...

She must have given love to so many, without question or reason, just to give.

To have married the man who would become her guardian angel, her ultra-care giver, her knight in shining armor who put his entire life aside to give her never ending support…

She must have loved him with all of her being.

To have been able to join us for every party these past 2 years…

  She must have practiced well !!!

  We miss you Jane.

~ cimma ~

You were my moon

On my dark summer night

You guided me along,

Always gave me sight

There were other stars

In my scary night sky

No other source

Ever shone as bright

I sensed a change

Up in that sky

I knew the night

Began to pass us by

I looked up

Searched for you in the sky

Found you,

And said my last goodbye

Although my moon

Fell out of sight

I hope to see her again

In a dark summer night

Jackie

I’ll See You in the Ferns

See you in the ferns when they turn gold.

The story of life, everything new turns old.

Sometimes too short, sometimes not fair.

We’ll remember that day

The ferns complimented your hair.

It was by God’s grace that we happened there.

And by God’s grace, we trust that “of you”

He’ll take good care.

We’ll feel your presence when the sun warms our face,

And hope for you, he will have a special place.

So in that hour just before dawn

Come visit in our dreams and we’ll carry on.

We’ll remember the ferns on that sunny day

God put them there for you in his own special way.

Although from this day on life on earth

Just won’t be the same.

We’ll wait, and We’ll listen, and We’ll cherish

When the gold ferns whisper…

“Jane”

Mike OB