My Memories of

Jane Sowers

January 31, 2010

When I first started attending Gainesville Presbyterian Church with Albert, Al Mathwin got a boat for his retirement, and Jane had just started taking organ lessons. She was doing that because the church lost its organist, and she wanted to be of service in that area.

Service was a theme in Jane’s life. She and Bob were always in the background somewhere serving and never taking the glory for themselves, not surprisingly they were at our wedding a few months later, helping.

Over the years, I was to spend many precious moments with Jane as we served together to further the cause of missions and the growth of the church. Jane was at the piano, at the organ, in the kitchen, at meetings, visiting me in the hospital. Jane was pleasant to everyone. She was so easy to talk to. You could always approach Jane and get into a good chat.

It was at my house that Jane became aware that she had cancer. I had called her in mid-to-late January because I had a terrible migraine and could not take care of Jacqueline who was on a feeding tube and blow-by oxygen. She came over and stayed the night in our guestroom which had a full-length mirror and that's when she told me, being a nurse, that the strange expansion of her stomach was not due to extra holiday foods, as she had previously supposed, but had to be due to something more serious.

Shortly thereafter she had her surgery and started Chemo.

Jane was brave throughout her illness. She rarely complained although the chemo was very tiresome and she was worn out. She was thankful that she didn't have to go very far for chemo and that she had so many friends who would stay with her and support her. I could not help her for Albert was still in Kuwait and Jacqueline needed me all the time. She told me quite early that year that she knew she was dying, and it was just a matter of when. It was always clear from our conversations whether in person or over the phone that, although she would like to live longer, she was ready to accept the Lord's will and timing.

Jane was always a blessing to others throughout her illness. This year I often met up with Jane at the Ladies Bible Study on Wednesdays. If I didn't see her there, I might drop by at the house unexpected, or not so unexpected, I guess. She was full of kindness towards everyone. Some days it was obvious that she felt terrible, but she always had an attitude of submission to the Lord's will. At the Bible study, she would listen patiently to other people's trials as expressed and prayed for, never putting herself out as a martyr or prime object of pity. She carried herself with dignity and expressed great faith in the Lord at every stage.

Three Wednesdays ago, on Wednesday, January 13, I dropped by after Bible study to see her. We spoke for about twenty minutes and I told her how I wished I could be of service to her. How I wished that I did not live so far away! She admitted to me that she felt terrible and that she was too exhausted to even speak at times, but she was grateful that she had lots of help from everyone. She said regretfully that she thought her days of going to church were at an end. I was not sure then that I would ever see her again, but in hopes of it, I talked my family into coming to Gainesville last Sunday.

Jane did not make it to church, as she predicted, but it was lovely to be there with her church family and hear her voice on the phone. I was delighted to be able to sign up to stay with Jane overnight. In fact, I told Jennifer Wellington that I couldn't come until the last Saturday on the list and that I hoped she might still be alive then. How gracious the Lord was to me! I feel so privileged to have been with Jane during her last days.

When I arrived, Pinkie was staying with Jane and Susan was visiting with them. Everyone was in a jolly, loving mood. Jane was still very much able to stand by herself although it required quite an effort. Bob was expressing amazement at Pinkie's abilities and energy. Everyone seemed lighthearted.

After Pinkie and Susan left, Jane rested quietly for a long while. She tried to get up multiple times during the night, but once she got to a sitting position she would always be so exhausted that she could not take the next step, and I became concerned that if she did get out of bed, we would not be able to get her back in without hurting her or ourselves. During this time, she would ask for water and insist on holding the glass herself. Later she became too exhausted to do that, and I gave her little water sponges that she then held and sucked on independently.

On Saturday morning, Hospice called and asked me whether she had died. They were expecting it, I guess. Jane was going downhill fast, of course, and she was too tired to speak most of Saturday, but she always said 'thank you' for everything you did for her. She was not too pleased with being pummeled around and lowered in the bed when she needed a Depend, but other than to say, 'Get me up' several times, she never expressed her dislike unkindly or harshly. After I would promise to get her up as soon as possible, she would wait patiently. She also did not like the taste of the Morphine but other than a small grimace and a request to get 'pure water, not poison,' she bore it tolerantly. Saturday afternoon she stopped being able to hold the little water sponges by herself. Her speech had gradually become more and more slurred during the day, so that at some points I could not understand what she was saying. Nevertheless, she never became impatient with me.

Pastor Lash came over and spent a large part of the morning with us. He came into her room to read scripture, sing and pray with her. She readily held his hand. We sang quite a long time. I think all of us would have continued even longer but after the seventh or so hymn, Jane said quite clearly but kindly, 'That's enough.' When Jack left and told Jane everyone loved her and was praying for her, she responded quite distinctly, 'I love you, too, Jack.' She knew who was visiting with her; the need to focus on breathing was just sapping all her energy.

Then Arleen, her neighbor and a former GPC member, came over and spent a lot of time with Jane reading her words of encouragement. It was clear that Jane was pleased with having Arleen there, that she recognized her, and enjoyed her company in spite of the fact that it seemed as if someone was making her run on a treadmill. Every breath was a major effort. I don't think Jane was in pain at any time but the pressure of the increasing asciites on her stomach and the need to concentrate and get big gulps of air were uncomfortable.

During the last hour of her life, Bob and I sat on either side of her bed, each holding a hand. Bob was talking about how they met, his trips to Pennsylvania to visit her, the early days of their marriage and church life at GPC, as well as their tandem bicycle which enabled Jane to 'keep up' with him when they went on trips. As we spoke, an orchestra was playing 'In Christ Alone' on a CD in the room. It was clear that Jane was listening to and enjoyed the sound of Bob's voice so near. In fact, she died with her head turned towards Bob's voice. No one had sat on that side of her bed all day, except Bob.

Unfortunately, we were not in the room when she died. We had stepped out to grab a bite in the kitchen. Bob was looking for Salsa in the basement, and I went back into the room to check on Jane and found she had stopped breathing. Her skin was still normal looking and working, so to speak, so I knew she must have just stopped breathing maybe moments before. She was peaceful, not in any way strained or uncomfortable looking. In fact, I never saw her feeling as if she was being strangled, something she had expressed concern about and that we had prayed she might not have to bear. I called down to Bob, 'Jane has gone to heaven,' or maybe I said, 'Jane has flown to heaven.' At any rate, he came up and verified it with me. She looked so much like herself that, apart from not breathing, she still seemed very much alive. I expected her to turn her head at any moment. I believe she died a little before 7:40 p.m. She had finally flown to be with her master, Jesus Christ.

Later, after a few phone calls (Bob wanted to call Jim right away, of course, and I called Hospice and Pastor Jack), the Hofs from across the street came over and we all stood around Jane's bed as Arleen's husband read from the psalms and we sang 'Great is thy faithfulness . . .' But at that point, Jane's face had already taken on the unnatural pallor that so quickly comes on a body after death. Jane was gone from the earth.

What is the lesson of Jane’s death? It is the lesson of a life well spent, a life poured out to the glory of God. I was not her best friend or even her second best friend, but I was her friend and my life was touched by her gentle but firm ways like those of so many other women and men. She was not perfect. She was not God, but she had God, or rather God had her. Her faith was a vibrant, strong faith that held up easily during its last time of testing on earth. She was a determined but gentle believer. She did not need the attention of masses or important people. Like an arrow fixed on and headed towards its goal, her life lead quietly but gently to its terminus, its heavenly home. She knew the Lord, His ways, His prohibitions, and His love. She followed Him, obeyed Him, not always knowing where He was leading, but always knowing Who was leading and always submitting and reconciling herself to Him.

And Jane did something at the end of her life that is quite worth emulating. I hope to do it as gracefully as she did. She reconciled herself to her eventual death. She submitted to the idea of death as being the Lord's will for humans in general, and for her in particular. Although she did everything possible to fight her disease, she was always ready to meet the Lord. She knew that death was merely a door to a whole new world, a whole new life. She made herself ready and she said goodbye to her family and friends. She sorted the stuffs of her life as best as she could. I know she was giving her things away as early as two years ago because I received something very special from Jane's own collection for my birthday that year when she and Pinkie and Sarah Witherow surprised me by taking me out for lunch (I thought we were taking Jane out to lunch). Jane glorified God in life and in death.

I am still deeply honored that the Lord allowed me to be with her and Bob during the last moments of her life. I am ever cognizant that I am not deserving of that honor. Many, many women would have loved to have been there, to have done something, anything for Jane in the last week of her life, and many did, of course, but somehow the Lord wanted the story of her illness to begin and end with me in it, like a twist on a moebius strip. Jane was one of His master pieces. Her life story is beautiful like the well-written piece of music or the leisurely and scenic hike that she enjoyed, and it is ever full of signs of its composer. It was like a sweet smelling fragrance, a beautiful flower, a well-tended garden.

Not flashy, not eager to dominate a room, but always willing to help and to bless the Lord, that's how Jane lived. I know without a doubt that she is blessing and helping right now. And the results of Christ's work on earth through Jane are still being felt and will continue to be remembered by those who knew and loved her.