Too Much Loss #rememberjannese

This has been a year of gain and a year of far too much loss. A colleague of mine, beloved Professor Phillip Maynard died in early January. Rich and I married later that month. My 88 year old Nana made it through her sixth surgery just to make it through rehab, home, then die. Two dear friends of ours married yesterday. A dear friend of mine, actress, comedian, and forensicator, Jannese Davidson went in to the hospital, stayed there for 110 days, and yesterday died.

I was a lucky and unusual kid in the since that while I was growing up, no one I knew ever died. I had friend who lost great grandparents, grandparents and occasionally a parent or uncle or cousin. It was never me. In fact, high school was when I lost my first relative, my great grandfather in his late eighties to a bouget of colon cancer that eventually spread, followed in college by my great grandmother’s death from Alzheimer’s and a 94 year old weakened body.

I’ve been mourning my Nana’s death with waterfalls of tears at various unexpected moments. Sometimes, reading about those who left us too soon helps the tears get started. There have been too many beloved celebrities over the last few years who have died, like Robin Williams, Cory Monteith, Heath Ledger, Brittany Murphy, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman, just to name a few. All too young, all talented, all people we felt to varying degrees, we knew. There have also been far too many domestic gun deaths like the Dark Knight shooting, Treyvon Martin, and Mike Brown. On the other side of the world in Gaza, Syria, and Iraq, the bloodshed is unimaginable.

Jannese was 30 when she died yesterday; just turned 30 in March. I wasn’t her best friend, I wasn’t even her closest friend, but we were close enough that I have the privilege to say I knew her. We met in 2002 when I was competing in forensics (speech and debate) for California Baptist University and she for Azuza Pacific University. When I transferred to Ball Sate and she to Arizona State, I would get the delight of occasionally judging her in rounds at NFA (National Forensic Association) and AFA (American Forensic Association) national tournaments.

We didn’t keep in particularly close contact, but when she notified me that she was coming to Los Angeles and looking for an acting coach, I referred her to Mark McPherson’s Studio 24/7, where she in turn referred all of the transplanted Phoenix acting crowd. I was lucky to get to watch her in class and outside of class as an actor and comedian. She was incredibly talented. Everything that blew me away in her oral interpretation performances in forensics came across even more strongly in her acting. She had a lead role in the first film I wrote and produced in Hollywood, directed by Shane Harrington, starring many other 24/7 actors, “It’s Never About a Boy”: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2022434/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1 . We worked on two other films together, Brainwashed: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2735214/combined and Lady Killer: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2844558/combined. She invited me to her comedy shows, birthday parties, and other social gatherings. I didn’t always go, and she accepted my introversion. When I did go, she accepted my early arrival and early departure. That was a really great attribute of Jannese. She was always accepting.

When I visited her when she went in to the UCLA hospital the first time for a week or so back in April, I was impressed at how many people came to see her. I only stayed a few hours, but there were four or five other women who also came in and out: a student of hers, a fellow actor, a former co-worker, and a couple of others. A few days after she was out of the hospital that time, I remembered her talking about needing help with some things. I sent her a text to see if I could help her. We spent the day eating Tender Greens, talking about the many different areas in which our lives connected, and doing laundry. I remember thinking something wasn’t right. She was just out of the hospital, but she didn’t seem well.

The last time she went in to the hospital, when she went to Torrance, I only went to see her once. She didn’t look like herself, and from what she and her mother described, it seemed that the hospital had almost done more harm than good. I have been so impressed with Jannese’s mom. She looked so put together: hair and make-up done, such composure, even an occasional smile. More importantly, what an advocate. She worked tirelessly to improve her child’s care, to get answers, to protect, and to encourage. She even kept Jannese’s myriad of friends up to date through constant Facebook updates. Regardless of how bleak things may have seemed to me, however, between the pair of women’s wit, humor, and roll-with-the-punches attitudes, I was convinced, as I’m sure we all were, that Jannese would be out soon. Back to comedy gigs. Back to commercials. Back to movies. Back to coaching at Concordia. Back to schooling us all in ethics, women’s issues, current events, kindness, and keeping us on our toes. Back to life.

Hence, when I was casually looking through my Facebook on my iPhone yesterday before church, before the to-do list of the day, before a joyous wedding, and I saw Jannese’s mother’s post entitled: “Hospital Tour . . . Final Edition,” I was actually excited. I thought it meant she was leaving the hospital. She had left. Unfortunately, not as I was hoping. She had passed away. I cannot even imagine how heavy this loss and emptiness must be to Jannese’s mother. I’m up at 3:30 in the morning crying, as I may be for some time now. I wish that I could offer some comfort to the Davidson family. All I can offer is this: your daughter was a blessing to us all, and her memory will remain a blessing forever. (Thanks James Dabbagian for the banner:)