What are we going to do now?

We walked out of the nursing home and stood in front of Ed's truck.

The funeral home was on its way.

We didn't say anything for a few minutes and then Ed looked at me.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked.

I saw Janet before I actually met her. The Turner Junior High gym. I was a cheerleader and she was that cute boy Eddie Stewart's mom. It was a basketball game and I was 12 or 13 years old.

There was no way I could have known, nearly 40 years later, the woman sitting on those bleachers would become such an integral part of my life.

I think Ed and I might have been in college when we were talking about our parents. Don't know what started that conversation, but, what sticks out is that I said something about how I had always told my parents how much I loved them and they would say the same to me—everyday--sometimes multiple times a day.

I can still see Ed's face, illuminated by his car's headlights, as we were heading down the back road from Floyd & Janet's house in Arcadia to Jacksonville.

He was looking straight ahead and said, “I've never told my mom I love her.”

I remember being shocked. That concept seemed so odd to me because I could clearly see how much they cared about each other.

I asked him why not?

He said, simply, “She knows.”

I told him to turn the car around.

We went back to their house and Janet was sitting at the kitchen table. She looked surprised we were back so soon.

We sat down and Ed said he just wanted to tell her something.

You should have seen her smile.

She quickly said, “I love you, too.”

From that moment on, the “I love you's” became more frequent.

You see, the thing about Janet and Ed's relationship is that they would do absolutely anything for each other.

That was the unspoken part.

But, that night, I think they both understood how important the spoken word was, too.

As outgoing as Janet was, Ed is equally as quiet.

Opposites?

No. He's his mother's son.

They have the kindest hearts. Caring. Compassionate.

They just expressed it differently.

But, both loved their families more than anything else in the world.

Janet was a natural caregiver. She'd done it all her life...for so many people she loved.

And, when she was the one who needed the care, Ed was there.

Unwavering. Supportive. Selfless.

She once told him, during these last months, that she knew he would make the right decisions for her—that she had complete trust in him.

That. Is. Love.

Perhaps the only people who Janet loved more than her son, were his children.

God, she was proud of them. Typical Grandma style.

Or, in the case of these four...Monger style.

When Braxton was little, he had constant ear infections. Dr. Dailey would tell us that everything sounded like it was underwater. So, when we would call Janet “Grandma” apparently, it sounded like Monger to him.

It stuck.

Our kids started out with three Mongers. Monger Ruby, Monger Lin, and Monger Janet.

About 15 years ago, Monger Janet was the only Monger they had left.

One grandparent.

As their mom, I'll be forever grateful for the love and support she gave to them.  Our Four 'B's, as she would call them.

Too many times, too many memories to share. But they hold those in their heart now. That's where they'll stay.  

We couldn't have asked for more.

“What are we going to do now?”

It's been a long, long time since I first saw Janet.

That cute boy, Eddie Stewart, became the love of my life. And his mom became more than the woman in those bleachers in the Turner Junior High gym.

She was my mother in law, my kids' Monger Janet, and in these past months, she became my friend.

I'm going to miss her.

It is what it is.

p