And All That Jazz

Many people float in and out of our lives. Some are there for life, others barely make a ripple in our existence.

Then there are the ones who come into your life when you need them most, save you, and disappear. One such person in my life was Jan.

I have no idea why she's been on my mind so much lately, let alone why I feel so compelled to write about her. But I've learned to follow my instincts, so here we are. 

Jan and I met when we worked in the accounting department at J.B. Robinson Jewelers. I was nearing the end of my first marriage. Aside from work, Jan and I found common ground in books, the Beatles and a love of England. 

At some point that I can't exactly recall, the dream of traveling abroad was bandied about, and the two of us began to make plans. Jan took care of the travel arrangements, I convinced my husband I needed the time away to think and put up my share of the cost. This was happening!

We joked about being so excited about beginning our adventure that surely our side of the plane was bobbing about with us jumping up and down on our seats. (It was figurative, of course, neither of us being outwardly demonstrative.)

There were many adventures to be had, and we had as many as we could in that delightful week. We spend most of the time in London, but also took a day trip to Dover and Canterbury. It's the one of the few times in my life that I was a full-fledged tourist, taking in as much as I could stand. I declared my favorite place to be Westminster Abbey. Jan was partial to St. Paul. The trip turned out to be a once-in-a-lifetime extravaganza, and I am still awed that we did it together. 

After our return, life went back to normal for a very short while, before it became apparent that my marriage was not mendable. But what was I to do? Jan floated the idea of moving in with her. It was eventually arranged, and we moved in together. I could never have moved out on my own – my finances at that point were in sorry shape. Jan was my lifeline at a time when I needed one most. I've never forgotten that. 

Over the years, we lost touch. She switched jobs and moved in with another friend. I moved to Virginia, got married, moved back and had a kid. I didn't see her much, and then not at all. At one point, I sent her a picture of my son and I think I told her about my blog. But I never heard back. 

I don't know why she's been so much on my mind lately, but I hope somehow she sees this and knows how thankful I am to have had her in my life. And how much she's meant to me.

Love you, Jazz!

P.S. I have a wonderful photo of the two of us in London that sits on my dresser, but I decided not to show it here, in the interest of preserving her privacy.