Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Goodbye Jen


Yesterday, January 11, 2010 at 3:55 p.m., my friend, Jenny McGrorey, stepped from this world and into the next part of her soul’s adventure. When she left, she was surrounded by her family, whom she loved dearly, and she went peacefully.

Her family was given a unique gift when Lori, a friend of Jen’s, visited the hospital two days before on Saturday. Jenny and I both knew Lori from our days at PwC. Lori is an outgoing personality, a real firecracker, who happened to have a perspective no one else had. She’d lost her husband seven years previously to a sustained illness, and took care of him for a year before he died. She also had a very wonderful (albeit private) experience that helped her get through her husband’s absence and removed her fear of death. Through this, Lori understood what Jen’s family was going through, and how hard but important it would be to let Jen go. She reminded them that the baby, Jen’s grandbaby, growing in its mother womb, would be a part of Jen. She helped them see the miracle of life that was happening right in front of their eyes. She validated their feelings completely, but respectfully. She laughed with them and cried with them, understood what they were feeling, and brought them comfort. I am blown away by the gift that Lori was able to give Jen’s family when they needed it the most … when they needed her the most. This gift was not only to Jen, but to the people Jen loved, which she would have wanted with all of her heart.

It’s times like this, when our pain seems the greatest, that we get a glimpse of the grand design. We see that people are often in our lives for a specific reason, and that the gifts they have for us can be revealed in the subtlest of ways.

Monday, the day Jen passed away, I got almost a hundred hits on my blog from PwC servers (where I worked for 19 years, and where Jen worked for over 10 years). Many people out there knew and loved Jen, and I’m glad they appreciated what I wrote.

There are also some people, some very small-minded people working at PwC who never had anything nice to say about Jen. They actually put her down for what she was going through, demonstrating a complete lack of compassion. Their shared whispers, the fear-fuelled nasties they exchanged, never meant anything to Jen. Her friends and family know how wonderful and strong she was. To those who were mean, I say this: Take a good, long look in the mirror and ask yourself what kind of person has to make fun of someone who has cancer?

There will be no service for Jen. She didn’t want one. She is to be cremated and her ashes spread out over the open sea. Then, when the dust settles in a few months, there will be an invitation only party to celebrate her life.

I hope to see many of you there.

3 comments:

The Tarot Lady said...

What a beautiful post. My heart goes out to you, Jen and her loved ones!

Norn Cutson said...

thank you, Donna!
thats a great photo of you & Jen!
You & Jen are so fortunate to have each other in your lives!
(& i use present tense on purpose).

all love to Jen's family & yours!

Avia said...

I appreciate how Norn rightly conveys presence...present tense in his comment.

Although she did great work in this phase of life, Jen's greatest work is yet to come.

To use Beethoven as the orchestration of metaphor...this life is our 9th Symphony.

From it, is born the infinite inspiration and open-ended mystery in crafting our 10th Symphony.

Rock on Jen.

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