Just a few weeks after Janet’s death, I read a lovely poem called “Turn Again to Life” and felt like they might well be Janet’s words written just for me:

If I should die, and leave you here awhile
Be not like others sore undone, who keep
Long vigils by the silent dust and weep.
For my sake, turn again to life, and smile,
Nerving thy heart and trembling hand to do
Something to comfort weaker hearts than thine.
Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine,
And I, perchance, may therein comfort you!
–Mary Lee Hall

This felt like a commission and a promise from my dear sweetheart. I printed and framed the poem and it sits on my desk. And as I reflect on what is driving me these days, a significant portion can be related back to completing unfinished tasks that are dear to Janet.

Of course, I remind her often that I would love to feel even greater degrees of her comfort from doing so! I do feel tremendous satisfaction, though not really any metaphysical ‘comfort,’ which would bless me beyond measure. But I’m not complaining; honoring Janet’s spirit and legacy is its own reward and brings its own comfort.

Somehow over the decades we had each found our gifting: Hers a deep concern for family, friends, and neighbors; and mine a concern for our global neighbors and human family worldwide.  Yet now I find myself with over 20 names of individuals, most of them dear to us both, who I am praying for daily. It’s exhausting sometimes. I had no idea. It’s not better or worse than my prior prayer concerns (I used to think mine were more important). Daily I’m reaching out to several loved ones for updates on their challenges, whether physical, emotional, or spiritual. Janet used to send and reply to such texts at all hours or when we were relaxing in the evening together, which I often found annoying. Now I’m the one doing the same thing; I’ve taken her place. It’s a great privilege, and also a burden. I will need to find my new balance and my emotional limits in this space of hers that I’m suddenly occupying.

Tonight I completed a few more dear unfinished tasks of hers. It began when recently I re-read her autobiographical Storyworth book and came across the chapter entitled “What Advice Would You Give Your 20-Year-Old Self?” I’d read the chapter a couple times previously, but this time it struck me that her very breezy and casual style belied some profound ideas, if I’d only take the time to read them slowly and thoughtfully. She’d written these for our multi-generational offspring, and I wondered if our family members had also sped through the tidbits without much reflection. I pondered: How could I help Janet plant her sentiments more firmly in their hearts and minds? The idea of a “flipbook” came to mind… each page a single thought from that chapter, coupled with a photo. I labored long in selecting photos and designing the piece, using only Janet’s words, and in the past couple of weeks I’ve delivered or mailed copies to all our “downline” and others in our families.

Then I realized that our neighbors who loved Janet so much would also appreciate copies with a few photo changes, so I created copies to present them as Easter gifts, which Janet would have thoughtfully prepared in previous years.

I’d like to share the gift with you as well. This will not be the most “profound” or “deep” thing you’ve ever read, but it does represent the distilled wisdom of a lovely and loving person after 67 years of life. I also gave each recipient a small stand; I keep my copy on my kitchen counter and flip to the next page each week. Whether you save these or simply reflect a moment on each one, you’ll be honoring their author and will enjoy some of the fun photos accompanying each page.

I also framed and presented a separate chapter from her book tonight to our neighbor Tom, a Vietnam War veteran who is dying because of exposure to Agent Orange. He was deeply moved this evening when he read what Janet had written about him and about how his personal story had deepened the meaning of Veteran’s Day for her.

For me, each of these are holy tasks. In my remarks at her memorial I quoted Jesus’ words, “Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”  I commented that we are the ones who will keep her memory alive by spreading her seeds; seeds of love and grace and thoughtful caring. I hope I am personally being faithful to that challenge.

As I feel my way through this dark tunnel of grief and loss, tasks such as these feel like opportunities to continue to partner with Janet. I am her publicist, her promoter, her groundskeeper, spreading her seeds and continuing to grow her impact and keep her flame burning brightly. These things will not “bring her back to me.” I know that. Yet I consider this an honor and a holy calling.

Not many people realize that Oswald Chambers was hardly known at all when he died of illness during World War One. His widow took meticulous shorthand of his sermons and worked with others after his death to turn those teachings into books such as My Utmost for His Highest. She completed his dear unfinished tasks, for the benefit of millions of Jesus followers.

In my small way, I’m finding great blessing in doing the same for my dearly departed Janet.

Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine,

And I, perchance, may therein comfort you!

Cory

April 2024