Even With Death in this World, Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #16
May 13 '10
The Bottom Line Even with death in this world our home still provides fun-filled and loving memories.
How could the death of a father's 22 year old daughter be a treasured memory? It's simple, in spite of an awful tragedy, love continues to fill our home.
After receiving the middle-of-the-night door-bell ring that every parent fears my wife and I hunkered down with our other four children until daylight started to fill the air on the morning of May 6th. At seven or eight O'clock we started making the appropriate phone calls letting those near and dear to us that our daughter Jennifer was killed in an auto/truck accident early after mid-night. Making those calls was hard to do. I was also set to go to the county morgue to ID my daughter. My children and my wife suggested I don't go. It was probably because of health reasons and also that it was clear to all that my last memories of my daughter were glorious and God given. Let me explain starting the previous day.
...Our Jennifer unexpectedly came home on Wednesday evening, grabbed a quick bite and changed. She and two friend/coworkers had a plan for the evening. Knowing Jennifer, she was leading this expedition.
She came down wearing a colourful dress. She had our souvenier sombrero in her hand. We kept it hanging on a wall with other travel souvenirs on our stairwell. I asked her for it so I could clean it a bit having picked up some dust. She then placed it on her head and gave her usual big smile. She looked amazing! Jennifer started walking out of our house via the front door. I stopped her directing Jenn to go out the back "so mom can see you"...and she did. Jennifer's older sister was there too. I watched through the window as Jennifer bounded down the three steps in glee with shouts of "CincoDeMayo!" as she passed mom and sis and walked out to her car...a car she called her "Space Ship." We often laughed about that car. It was an old wagon that had a dash board with"Star Trek" like gadgets. She was always running from here to there visiting one group of friends or another, to her brother's home to talk of life, to a dear friends, to our home with specific instructions for a particular dinner, to another brother's home to stay overnight and babysit their children, to her other place of work where she did laser shows (to help pay off college loans), to visit old school friends in the northeast, on a play date with her neices to other people's homes, to the city to see a show, to some relative for dinner or to just talk...she was always, always on the move.
That night however she and her cohorts had a plan. They work for an on-line promotional company. You know, the ones that make pens, t-shirt and more withthe name of your company or slogan on them. They decided they wanted to make a film. The plan...Go to a party atmosphere, blow up beach balls withtheircompany'slogo on them and let the revelers have fun with the items as my daughter and cohorts video taped them...and they did!!
Later that evening at about 11:35 or so I heard from Jennifer. "We did it dad!" She started giving hurried and excited details. I don't hear all that well but it was something about "couldn't get back in"..."didn't know she was still in there"..."beach balls over the fence"..." we got great video."
Jennifer was off the phone in a flash. My wife started asking me questions. I had basics but no details. I told her we would hear the whole story from Jennifer later. We never did...some thirty five/forty minutes later she was gone from this world.
Two brothers and one daughter went to do the ID. That was OK for me. I already had my last image of my beautiful Jennifer running out the door earlier. When they came back they told me she had a smile on her face. What else could I or should I have expected? She was always on a journey to fun and adventure. This time she was on her final journey in her "Space Ship" to see our God.
Upon family discussion it was decided we would celebrate Jennifer's life the next few days. There would NOT be a dark funeral home with all tears and little communication. We planned to open our home to all who cared to visit, cry, laugh, share stories and more...and visit they did.
First, and unexpectedly to me, coming to our home that morning were friends from our church. (Shouldn't have been unexpected) We are blessed with one particular group. We call ourselves fourteen faithful friends. The number may be slightly different now (larger). We have been friends and more for some thirty years or more.
Our friends took over bringing breakfast and preparing our home for visitors. For the next four/five days they shopped, set-up, prepared, presented, cleaned and accepted deliveries and such leaving my wife and I along with our family free to spend time with the hundreds of people that passed through our front doors and into our back yard. Chairs and tables magically filled our large back yard providing some comfort to our friends and family. Many other church friends, neighbors and family continued to provide for everything my family may have needed.
The flowers, cookies, fruit baskets, food trays and all kept our tables and stomachs full and the catering that our friends and family set up and paid for over the next five days was accomplished with heartfelt compassion. Trees, plants, bushes, statuary and more were sent to us. We will be setting up a small memorial garden for my daughter Jennifer in our back yard that is now bordered by perennials prepared to bloom this season.
Along with the deliveries were the personal visits from some we never expected. One gal, Mary, who was in the first youth group my wife and I lead some twenty-something years ago, traveled from Pennsylvania to pay her respects. She also brought along her 16 year old daughter. With the beauty of a rainbow appearing after a dark rain storm our kitchen was suddenly filled with the voice of a young lady singing "Memories." It was an amazing moment as Mary brought her child to sing for us. A kind and inspirational gift for our family, it was.
Minutes later they were on their way back to Pennsylvania but the memories were just starting to be told. That is, the memories of Jennifer and how she effected lives and the way she guided so many. I always knew my Jenny was special but the stories, one after another brought out her love of life and service to others to another dimension. We were particularly blessed with Jen's schoolmates from St Joseph's of Maine a college she graduated from last year on the same Mother's Day weekend. Three who graduated on Saturday this year, immediately after the ceremony, drove down five and a half hours staying in NY for two days to visit us. They were joined by many others, perhaps ten, who also came in throughout the weekend.
One good school friend flew in from San Francisco and stayed four days. A very dear friend of my daughter's who she sponsored when he became a Catholic drove down from Maine with his parents. They are good people we did have the pleasure of meeting and spending time with in Maine. They came down, spent a few hours and made the full drive all the way back again. They said, "They wanted to be here." Their sacrifice was greatly appreciated.
Young people from my daughter's job also spent time at our home. No, not just a few moments and leaving for their local homes. There were some that came to our home EVERY SINGLE DAY and spent hours talking with us and telling us stories about our Jennifer. We also learned more details as to my daughter's final hours. All I can say is that, as I already knew from seeing her off that evening and hearing from her later that night that, she was in complete joy and in her element having fun and on some kind of mission of doing something special.
My wife and I believe she was inspired to help others years earlier after making two trips down to Jamaica working with Father Ho Lung and the Missionaries of the Poor. Jennifer at age 14 was working with serverly physically handicapped children and others that were dying of AIDS. She showed compassion for others and continued to do so throughout the rest of her life.
Compassion was showed to us by our dear friends, family and church community. Each night was punctuated by something special. One priest and two deacons prepared services for us Friday, Saturday and Sunday night. Their words, prayers and kind gestures continued to nourish the soul and share the love that Jennifer's life brought to so many she touched.
Jennifer went to Toronto in 2002 to see Pope John Paul at the World Youth Day. A particular youth group member who now co-teaches the current church YouthMinistry group with my wife lead the group in Canada on many a day playing his trumpet blasting "When the Saint's Go Marching In." One of those evening at our home we heard the trumpet once again, this time outside our home as the young man played that song leading a column of young people and adults into our home and living room whith everyone started singing along and clapping their hands... "Praise God!" is all I can say. It's a moment I will never forget.
On another evening a guitar player/singer from our churches prayer group lead us in songs to charismatic proportion. Our home was filled with raised voices offering prayers for our daughter.
The four days in our home were filled with prayer and song, tears and laughter, serious matters that Jennifer helped lead her peers through and silly stories of Jenny's antics. What I never heard were regrets.
Having young people in our home usually means a party is about to happen. On Sunday night, the last night before her funeral, when most people had left we did have a dance party for Jennifer. Some of the young people, schoolmates, friends and co-workers along with her sisters found her strobe lights. Glow necklaces, silly hats and such were distributed and a dance track played. We enjoyed each other in her honour. The dancing followed the pouring out of goodies that Jennifer liked from a piƱata that her friends purchased and filled with "Jenny things" earlier in the evening.
On one earlier evening my wife caught the eye of a young man wearing a white collar of a priest. My wife ran to him and was introducing him by first name to many around. Someone reminded her, "It's Father!" To my wife this was Brian from our youth group years before. He said addressing him as "Father" didn't matter. The fact is his being with us was all that mattered to me and my wife. It was powerul witness that this young man came and spent time with us for our loss that night and con-celebrated mass a couple of days later.
We buried Jennifer on Monday morning, a glorious day. Even the mass attended by so many and rites at the cemetary gave us special memories. I'll never forget the packed church and also the image of some twenty or so young people walking through the whole cemetery to get to my daughter's place of rest. Afterward we all left as we were singing. "When the Saint's Go Marching In."
We all returned to our home. As I walk around I still see perhaps 100 photos of my daughter on walls, shelves and tables throughout our home. Most of them will be placed back in albums soon.
I hope to continue to hear stories and share memories as Jennifer's close friends continue to visit us and help us through this most difficult of times.
I have started to read entries in a special book where many penned their last messages to Jennifer. That will continue to be hard to do but, even so, they will contribute to Pop's Home Filled With Treasured Memories.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
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About Me
- popsrocks
- I'm a 60ish fellow that loves life with his wife, children and grandchildren. My wife and I now travel as often as we can. The Caribbean is our favorite destination whether exploring an island for a couple of weeks or making stops here and there via cruise ships. At our age we have decided that looking for the perfect place to snorkel is our #1 goal in life. I've posted many travel reviews on the Internet that I hope to share them here on my blog.