I found out about the death of my friend Janet through Facebook. We used to meet regularly, first with a mutual friend, Dorothy. Dorothy gradually went downhill till she died at 94. Janet and I, joined by another friend, Rebecca would sometimes meet at Galaxy and have lunch together somewhere in the city.

When COVID came I would ring Janet every now and again because we couldn’t meet for lunch and I wanted to keep connected to people. We both lived alone and it was nice to chat. A devout Catholic, Janet was glad she’d bought a computer so she could regularly attend services via Zoom.

Janet spent her life in a wheelchair. When very young, a bout of tuberculosis collapsed her spine. She spent a long time as a child in hospital, something we often heard stories about when she was telling us things that had happened in her life. By the time I knew her, she was living with her mother and when her mother died, she managed the wheelchair life on her own. She did well. She worked as a telephonist in Grace Bros which became Myers and as telephones became automated they found her work, keen as they were to show they had an open policy towards the disabled. Janet always met life on her own terms.

We bonded over a love of science fiction and fantasy. For Janet, it may have been a way to experience a life she couldn’t always have. That was my reason anyway and I certainly didn’t face the challenges in life that Janet did. She had to be smart with her choices, and knew how to choose loyal friends, and together with her mother, and her friends, she got around. Loving reading was part of that.

The second last time I spoke to Janet she was in hospital. She’d blacked out at home and was confused, so friends took her to Prince of Wales. I wanted to visit her but COVID made that difficult, hospitals didn’t want healthy people around. Janet told me she was there for tests and was waiting for results. “Hurry up and wait”, she complained.

Next time I rang and said, “Janet,” she said, “Yes, this is Janet.”

“It’s Michelle,” I said, to which she repeated, “Yes, this is Janet,” and hung up.

All the calls were like that. I tried every week for a while. I thought something must be mucking up her brain and eventually doctors would be able to release the pressure and she would be fine. She was always patient and doctors were probably worried about COVID. Eventually I gave up, she would call me once she was better. She did call me once and we talked a bit about problems with her phone. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she would be fine. But the next call, we were back to “This is Janet,” after which she would hang up.

I kept calling her for a few more weeks but there were other things to occupy my mind and other friends to keep up with. The world turned and time went by.

Months later I saw her name on Facebook and decided to look her up. There were some birthday messages from 17 November last but it was now May, and a whole new year, and I’d been so busy I hadn’t even thought of her at Xmas. So, I left a message asking her to contact me, please.

An hour later I received a message from a friend who lived in South Australia. “I think Janet’s dead,” the message said. I rang the friend and we searched Google for an obituary. It seems she’d died at the end of January, and all that time I hadn’t even thought about her. I remember going to her mother’s funeral but it seems I missed Janet’s.

I’m trying to remember what we used to do, or talk about, when we met but all I can remember is conversations and laughter. I loved spending time with her, I can’t remember ever missing a meeting, it was always an afternoon well spent although I don’t remember what we did.

I hope she’s happy now, wherever she is.