Janet Elizabeth (JB) Foster, PhD

I have so many vivid pictures of JB, who I knew as Skeeter at the University of Texas in the early 1990s, but they are all in my mind. Still, there is literally no one from that time in my life who I remember as clearly - how she looked, how she spoke, and so many funny, striking moments. She really was one of the funniest, wittiest, wisest people I have met, and I continue to carry with me things that I learned from her. The most profound are these: she told me the story of how her sister came for her when she was little and took her in, and the story, as she told it, awakened something within me that Jung would call numinous - an archetype -- of a blessed child. Her description of being protected and loved made me aware of my having been precious, deserving of love, as a child, and that was not something that my early experiences had given me. The myth of Christmas and the birth of a sacred child suddenly made sense to me. What she gave me by sharing that part of her story with me was an extraordinary gift of the spirit. The other memories are also ones I treasure deeply, but they seem "lighter" in comparison to the first: they are the ritual that our dissertation writing group did together, which entailed burning Skeeter's inner authoritarian dictator (an image of the inner part of her that was blocking her from writing) in the sink of her apartment. It was both hilarious and genuinely liberating. Burning a dictator in effigy is always a good idea - I would recommend it to anyone!! Another story she gave me that I share all the time is of a German Shepherd she had when young, who was a brilliant dog -- perfectly loyal, obedient, brave, kind, good, and brilliant. Occasionally, however, her magnificent friend and protector would take a wild hair and run off and wipe out a neigbor's chicken coop, and come home covered with blood and feathers. I adored her description of his half-ashamed, half defensive expression as he would stand at her door, covered in feathers and gore, clearly conveying to her, "oh, for heaven's sakes - I'm a dog -- I can't always control my nature!" That one, too, gave me a way of thinking about a part of myself -- I think of it, in particular, when I over-talk in the classroom. The expression of exasperation, mortification, and defensiveness is how I feel when I walk out of situations where I broke my leash and went for an undisciplined run, and it allows me to laugh at and feel compassion for the part of me that has more verbal and intellectual energy than I know what to do with, and that sometimes just runs wild for a bit. And finally, there was the time that Skeeter invited me out to eat, tete a tete, after I had gotten a job at a small liberal arts college. It was, again, something she taught me -- to ritualize a goodbye, and to create a small event to mark a person's transition from one phase of life to another. And I remember we talked about the feel of my intellectual energy at that time -- which was the energy of a kid in a candy store, utterly bursting with joy and excitement at getting to be a part of the conversation. As we spoke of this we came up with the name of "the Gee-Whiz Kid" for that persona. And Skeeter told me, very kindly, without judgment, that at some point i was going to need a new persona. As I wrote this last bit I thought to myself "WOW -- Skeeter should have been a therapist!!!" And then it occurred to me that, of course, she was. I am so grateful to have had some years in which she was in my life regularly. She was a luminous star, and she gave those around her a lot. Thank you so much, Susan Meigs, for reaching out to me so I can express my love, my gratitude, and say goodbye. And Reiner, I never met you, but I remembered your name after all these years when I was walking with our friend JoAnn this morning. It means a lot to know you were there with her to the end. I knew from the way she said your name that you were her soul mate, and that is not a term I use. Ever. But in the case of you and JB, that's how it struck me. Blessings to all who JB touched, and to all the glittering motes of stardust her life behind with us.