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Jo Ann's Homepage
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Memories And Stories - Page 5
What a work of love! I have a personal sadness that we were just beginning to get to know each other. I would have so needed her spunk. I am not adventuous. I needed her artists eye. Our friendship was forged when sickness had invaded her life. I can only imagine just how much it must and will continue to hurt. This is a poem I have, I don't know who wrote it. It was early afternoon. The light slanted through the window of the train my wife and I were traveling on from Venice to Lake Como I am not known as a romantic poet a fact my wife has brought to my fuzzy attention more than once. But though I have known this woman for most of my adult life, I had never seen her quite like this. The light had caught my wife and for a brief moment it seemed as if every gram of her essence, all the elements that have cleaved me to her were broadcast into the forced air of the compartment. "Everybody's fightin bout it," goes the old song, and God I understood why. She is so lovely, thought my beggar's eyes, and I am allowed to belong to all that. I bet you had a few moments like this.
The above tribute and poem sent by Father John McKenna - a priest who is
an especially good pal and -like most- really loved Jo
Ann. 
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