Miz Jane

December 3, 1999 I wrote my first letter to Daisy.It had been more than thirty years since I consciously thought about Daisy more than just in passing from time to time.The letters just started flowing naturally one winter night. In this moment of midlife loneliness and losses, I guess it really was logical that Daisy would be the one I would turn to when I needed to convey my deepest thoughts and feelings.

I wrote to Daisy...

It struck me as I read the letter to Daisy back to myself that I had signed my name “Janie”. Daisy never called me “Janie”. That was my White World nickname. This name I hated when I was young because I thought it made me sound little, like it was a baby’s name, and I certainly didn’t need any more reminders I was little. Now that I’m older and trying to forget how to count passed 39, “Janie” seems just fine.

Daisy knew me as “Miss Jane” or if written in spoken language, “Mis’ Jane” with the s heard more like a z held in sound waves more like zzzzz. Daisy either held the “z” sound this long or my young ears just loved the sound of Daisy speakin’ my name so much my ear drums wouldn’t let go. Truth told, I’m sure it was some of both.

“See yuh next break time, Daisy.” This always played in my mind long before I had the words. “Bye, Daisy” was about the most I’d say. You’d say, “Bye, Mis’ Jane.” Most times we jus’ said, “Time tuh gits back tuh work” and then we did. No need for G’byes”. Besides, “Bye” meant we were moving apart in space, to the next row or tree, but we could still see eachother working. “Bye” didn’t mean that our talkin’ was done for very long.

Bye, Daisy
Mis’ Jane