Stories to Soothe the Soul

Janet

My mother (of 6) always felt that Janet was in fact a gift, and that she was also special to be chosen as her mother. We all grew up believing that Janet was a living angel, and I still feel this to be true. For me, she was beautiful and pure, untouched by certain trivial aspects of life, immune to certain evils; even her teeth remained so white for lack of coffee/tea and/or red wine. Janet made me appreciate life as a young child: I felt lucky to be able to go to school and read, etc..., if I ever complained about homework all it took was one look from my mother to speak what didn't need to be spoken and remind me of this. When I got my license in high school, I used to drive to Zambarano hospital and visit her, feed her lunch on the weekends; she would be in pain at times, and laughing like a baby the next; but looking meaningfully into your eyes the whole time. She always wore the hand-knitted stockings my mother made for her, there was always a hand knit afghan on her bed. My mother was a symbol of strength for us all, teaching us the most important lesson of all: the meaning of life; that there is no "fair" or "unfair", that easy doesn't build character and that nothing, nothing is more important than love and that you don't have to be "perfect" or even aware of it in order to feel it's wonder.