This photo sits on my desk next to my computer. It's got a little dust on it, and there's a stack of notes from about a year's worth of stories blocking part of it from my view.
I love this photo because it reminds me of the scores of wonderful times I spent with Jenny Jacobson Meyer. This was a special night in August, 2006. "Jenny's Journal" showed at the Panida in downtown Sandpoint. Jeff Bock, the brilliant mastermind who brought "Jenny's Journal" to fruition, was also preparing for his wedding to Krisianna the next day.
So, we posed for the photo snapped by another of Jenny's and Jeff's classmates "Just" Joe Gere.
Our hearts are heavy this morning, having received the news last night that Jenny completed her earthly journey late yesterday afternoon.
We knew this was inevitable, but as Jeff said the other day, it doesn't make it any easier.
A visit to Jenny's blog at (www.mangymooseacres.blogspot.com) will continue to reveal the scope of her impact on countless numbers of family, friends and perfect strangers.
I've lost students over the years. It's tough. This one is one of the most devastating. Jenny was my student. Jenny was my friend. She was my confidante. She inspired me. She taught me.
To Jenny:
I transplanted those cucumbers that had their head start in the new greenhouse. Tears for you, dear friend, moistened their placement within the ground. I shall think of you as I garden. I'll think of you while baking cookies for the Bonner County Fair, and I'm hoping Grace will take up the baton in our annual competition.
I'll think of you every year when Laurie asks me to help out with her fifth graders. I missed you this year, but I'll always cherish the times we spent retrieving those horses whenever Laurie needed them.
I'll think of you always and chuckle about that brittle strip of film you decimated so thoroughly when you poured in the full bottle of stop bath rather than just a drop.
I'll think of our times spent drinking coffee, eating your cookies and sharing our thoughts and values, which were so much in concert. When I listen to country music, I'll know you're listening too.
Jenny, I want you to know that when I came into the house after transplanting those cucumbers, I looked out the kitchen window and saw a beautiful rainbow in the sky just to the right of the God Tree.
I told Bill that was you, making a visit.
One of the greatest honors I experienced in our relationship was when you would send me emails and within them refer to me as "Friend."
You have done your work here on earth, and you have left a dose of your goodness and exemplary spirit with everyone you have touched.
Thank you, Jenny, for including me on your long list of mortals who are better because of knowing you.
I feel so blessed.
4 comments:
As gardens flourish this summer, many of us will think of Jenny. Thank you for sharing your soul with us. It is indeed a healing balm.
Love,
Darlene
A heavy heart lays across Bonner county this morning... and I know she didn't want tears (from reading her blog, you gather this)but I hope she won't mind as we are not quite as couragous as she... We know that Grace will carry on the torch of her mother,with her father's and grandparent's help.
so sad... just so sad..
Marianne, what a beautiful epistle to Jenny. She was, is, always will be, in our hearts. I've never met a more courageous and generous person in all my travels. I think we need to have have a chic-o-stic toast later this summer. I'll meet you at the God Tree...
Jeff
I never saw her without a smile, in spite of everything. She was very special and wonderful, and will be missed. The world's a better place because of her.
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