To say I miss her is quite an understatement.
When I met her I did not know what it meant to have an instant connection with another human being. But I believe we did. Jaine was familiar with Ayn Rand and I had just finished "Atlas Shrugged." We both thought Dagny was the coolest girl's name ever. We both longed for a lover who would live up to our ever so naive expectations. We both had a lot to learn.
We united also because in that great freshman roommate gamble, we had both struck out. My roommate was a very shy transfer student who went home every single weekend. She had lustrous natural red hair and wore tweed skirts with kick pleats. Generally she was unobtrusive; we just didn't have much in common. She did have a cool boyfriend/fiance, however. He gave me my first Pink Floyd album. I turned him on to Emerson, Lake, and Palmer.
Jaine's roommate was a total disaster. Leslie. Scraggly black witch hair that hung to her waist. One of those faces where the neck extends wobblingly down from the chin with no hint of indentation. Way too much oil of the earth. And, I swear she told us this, she did not ever wear underpants. Icky. AND she wore no bra. AND she wore tee shirts that barely covered her ass. AND she sat on other people's beds. Yeah, ick.
Jaine and I spent our dorm time mostly in other people's rooms.
Sophomore year we moved closer to campus and roomed together. Everyone told us not to do it. Said it would ruin our friendship. But it was great. We became an invincible pinochle team. I taught her to play Hearts: and when Jaine was invited to come to the debate office and play cards with the Hearts afficionados on the debate team I knew we had both reached a pinnacle of acceptance. I was so proud of both of us.
Jaine had the top bunk and I used to tuck her in at night. She said her Dad used to do that for her and it was one of her fondest childhood memories. Since I can't recall either of my parents ever tucking me into anything, I wanted to continue what I could of Jaine's family tradition. I am very short. So I would stretch up on my tiptoes, pull her quilts as tight as I could and jam Jaine's blankets under her mattress as tightly as my stubby arms would permit. She literally could not roll over, but she said that was exactly the right way to do it.
Then I would sing her a lullaby. Then she would scream. Then we would both laugh hysterically at our own cleverness. Then the RA would pound on the door and threaten to report us both to the dorm disciplinary committee. Which made us collapse even more. Mind you, this was almost a nightly performance. We thought it demonstrated our finely honed mutual sense of humor. See "lot to learn" cited above. Jaine had a great laugh.
She also had ginormous hips. Not a standard size, and so she made most of her own dresses from Vogue patterns (VOGUE! We had one expired subscription to National Geographic!) her older sister mailed from Chicago. How COOL was that? The only other people I knew who sewed were my own mother and the geeks in the home ec classes at my old high school. Want to be that? No freaking way!
But Jaine made this royal blue dress that skimmed her curves and made her look like a princess. She wore a silk scarf as a belt. I didn't own anything made of silk. She also made a floor length cape for herself with frog closures! I had never even seen one of those before and immediately wanted them sewn onto everything I owned. However, Jaine's most magnificent accomplishment was a messenger bag. They weren't called that back then, of course, but it was. Purple and green velvet. Velvet!!!! Lined in gold brocade. And on the outside a design of gold cording where she magically worked in her own initials. My darling friend was a designer before her time. She'd have given every candidate on Project Runway some stiff competition.
In the middle of our sophomore year Jaine's father retired, her family moved out of state and refused to pay the added tuition expense; and so Jaine had to transfer to a school down south. I will never forgive her older brother and sister for not signing on as her guardian so that Jaine could still pay in-state tuition rates and we could have finished college together. Damn them anyway! I think they were furious because she gave up on pre-med for child growth and development. Her family didn't think that was much of a major. Those clowns! So she moved.
I saw her once more when I got a reward flight to visit her over an Easter break. My parents had gone out of the country and I had to babysit all my younger siblings for a week while our parents cruised. ( I think it was a week.) So I got three days in the sunny south and made Jaine her first ever Easter basket. Turns out she hated jelly beans. What kind of a person hates jellybeans?! Then I came back to the Midwest and never saw her again.
Pre-cell phone days and neither set of parents would permit much long distance calling. Remember that? When calling someone far away cost a literal arm and leg? We did have a brief fling with some calling card shenanigans. Less said about that the better. Then, when I finally moved out on my own, I could barely afford bus fare. But we kept up a lively written correspondence for several years. I kept all her letters and am damn glad I did.
Then she met a man. I thought he sounded like a scoundrel and tried to talk her out of marrying him. She did anyway and I didn't/couldn't go to the wedding. Three months later she was dead. I hadn't heard from her in a few weeks. Then the horrible news arrived in a letter from her Mom. Took me about a year to recover; I just lost an entire year. My boyfriend at the time dumped me, too. Talk about stress, I suppose. I worked and probably smoked too much dope. Probably smoked too many cigarettes also..
But I was alive and she was dead and I had to figure out a way to continue in the world without Jaine. Without a very best friend. I'm still trying to figure it out. When my first child was born and after she died I attempted to contact some of Jaine's family. No response. Jaine would have been that baby's godmother. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. So, I did the next best thing. When my next baby was born and lived I gave her the middle name of the best woman I ever had the honor to know.
That baby, who is all grown up, has always been totally worthy of the name. All my daughters have special names. But sometimes, I think I should have given all of them "Jaine" as an honorary name. They deserve it and Jaine would have roared.
Althea Jaine and her baby boy.
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