Yes, dear, kind Jane and her crass, witty mouth. Jane who made her own rules, stepped over them, around them. Jane who never missed a Thursday Eucharist, and made sure I didn't either. Who embraced her faith with all her heart, who cried when talking to me about the perfect love one can find only from God. Tolerant, loving Jane who nodded her head to all the ways we live and hold faiths. Endlessly giving Jane who still brought her ex husband a plate after Community Cafe each week. Jane who went out of her way to make sure that anyone - anyone - who walked into the church hungry, or cold, did not walk out that way.
Jane who tried to drag us one by one to the Women's Club to help organize the piles of dusty old trinkets sold in the thrift store there; and who would buy all items of Christian relevance to distribute to her friends. Like this wooden cross given to me by her on the day I was baptized with her by my side.
Jane who was 30 years my senior but as much a sisterfriend as a godmother. Fixture of the church Jane. Ever present Jane. Jane whose endlessly annoying requests for Cookie Jam lives no longer ping on my Facebook.