I posted this on Facebook yesterday (10/1/11)  but realize that not everyone has facebook so I am sharing it here on my blog as well.

So many have asked about what brought Jennifer’s sudden and untimely death. We don’t really know the details yet and may not know for a good while. The following is written for all who are interested in knowing what I and my family know about Jennifer’s last moments here on this plain. It is also written as a testament of promises I intend to keep. It is written for family and friends and it is written for those who cared enough to send their condolences. This feels like public grieving and TMI for the people who didn’t know her but to me, it also has a healing quality. Not that I’m healed but this is the first step for me.

Jennifer was my big sister. My only sibling. She died a couple of days shy of being 42 years and one month old. Many times in life, we felt as though all we had was each other. She was laid to rest on September 29th, 2011, exactly one month after her birthday, which was July 29th, 1969. One of my biggest fears in life had been realized when my mother called to tell me the doctors at Duke had given her the news that Jennifer had passed.

About two years ago, I began to obsess over the approach of our 42nd birthdays.  Hers would occur first, mine would follow 18 months later. Our father died at this age, exactly six months after his 42nd birthday. I was nearly convinced that one of us would pass at the same age as our father. I told myself I was only being paranoid but still, the horrible feeling wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t’t shake it.  It was an obsession for awhile. It creeps me out to share this so openly. Until Jennifer passed, the only person I had shared this fear with was my husband. I remember talking to him about it. He helped me get through it, reassuring me that I was only attached to this number because my dad passed at age 42.

My fear became a reality last Saturday and I feel nearly crippled by it. It will take me a long time to find normal again. Nothing feels normal. Everything feels new and strange and I feel lost in the midst of it. I will never see my sister again, during this life. Never will I hear her voice again. She won’t be at Christmas celebrations. She won’t come to stay with me for visits.

The day Jenny died, I woke up late which is extremely rare for me. 9:30 am. I fed my dogs, got my coffee and sat down to check my email. The phone rang and it was my sister’s number. It’s still on my incoming call list for Sept 24th. 10:05 am is the exact time that it rang. The call lasted for exactly 4.5 minutes. I was on the phone with her from the time her seizure started until it ended. I had no idea what was happening. I only heard muffled voices in the background and some moaning.  A female voice telling someone to roll Jennifer over on her side. A male voice repeating my sister’s name over and over again.

All I could do was scream into my phone, hoping that my sister would hear me and pick up the phone. I had no idea what was happening but I knew it was something major. I remember thinking “OMG. Is someone killing my sister?!”  During the last minute of the call, things became very quiet.  I hung up with the intention of calling back to see if I could get her to pick up the phone.

In the meantime, her son Daniel (he lives with me), woke up because he heard me yelling his mom’s name.  I told him what had happened and asked him to dial his mom’s phone. I couldn’t’t do it, I was so frozen by fear that I couldn’t’t dial the number. Daniel called and a lady answered Jenny’s phone. She told him that his mom had a 4 and a half minute grand mal seizure.

When the ambulance arrived, Jennifer didn’t have a pulse and she wasn’t breathing. She was transported to Duke hospital. They worked to revive her for two hours, calling her death officially at 11:58 a.m. I am sure she was gone before then.

Saturday 9/24, was her first day at work. She had gone to work at Subway.  I called Subway later that day to let them know that Jenny had passed and to thank them for trying to help her. The manager answered. He was with Jenny when she had the seizure. He said that he was showing Jennifer how to clock in when she told him she didn’t feel well.  She told him her heart was racing. He had her sit down for a minute to see if it would pass and then, a moment later he looked over and saw her messing with her phone, as though she was making a call or sending a text message. Suddenly, she fell into the floor and began seizing.

When we received Jennifer’s possessions, the first thing we looked at was her phone. The screen was broken. I guess that happened when she dropped her phone on the floor. Still though, half of the screen works well enough to see the last activity to and from her phone. I wanted to see the call that she made at 10:05 am on Saturday, September 24th.   I don’t know why I wanted to see it, but I did.  The last call she made at 10:05 went to her boyfriend. He didn’t get the call, I did. How in the world is this possible?

This morning I looked at the caller ID on my home phone, just to be sure I was recalling the time of her phone call correctly. Sure enough, my sister’s number is on my phone as an incoming call at exactly 10:05 am, last Saturday.  As I was verifying this, my husband walked in the room and asked what I was doing. I told him and he said, “Um, look at the clock. It’s exactly 10:05 right now.” How strange that I would be checking this detail at exactly 1 week to the day, to the  minute, that she had her seizure and made her very last call to me.

At this point, I believe my sister reached out to me as death approached her with the help of divine intervention.  I absolutely cannot explain how a call made to her boyfriend ended up coming through my phone. It makes no sense. It’s impossible but it happened.  I have the proof in my hands right now and no matter how many times I look at it, I cannot explain it.

To those who couldn’t make it to Jennifer’s funeral, despite the fact that she had no insurance, she was given a beautiful Christian burial by our mother and stepfather.  Our uncle, David, held the service at graveside. Jennifer’s casket was carried by her children, Daniel and Cheyenne and my son, Tony, her cousins, Eric and Richie as well as David’s son in law, Chris.  Jennifer loved Celtic music. Her daughter Cheyenne chose “Amazing Grace” by Celtic Woman. As the bag pipes began to play, Jennifer’s casket was carried to graveside. For some reason, more than any other moment I had experienced earlier in the week, this particular moment stands out the most. Jennifer would have been or IS, so honored in knowing that these loved ones carried her to her eternal resting place.  She loved them so much.

So many came out to say good bye, to the funeral home for the viewing and to the graveside service. So many faces that I hadn’t seen in years. Many unfamiliar faces among them. Jennifer had so many friends and people that loved her.  Her memory was honored and as we, her children, myself and my mom, gathered to let the dove fly into the sky on his journey home, we felt that she too had gone home to rest in peace. After many hours and a couple of days of heavy thought, I can’t help but to feel she has not made that journey yet. I feel she is waiting and watching until some of the work she wanted to do is finished.

Jennifer leaves behind three grown children, John, Cheyenne and Daniel.  Once I get through the initial stages of my grief, I will be there for them. I will make sure they stay bonded to one another and give them guilt trips should they become too distant from one another.

To: John, Cheyenne and Daniel, I am sure you will read this.. .Never forget your mother loved you all.   I am blessed to have a special connection with each of you. Through you, she still lives. I can see her in your eyes, your faces and your smiles. I love you kids very much and I promise, once I get my feet back on the ground, I (and uncle Mark), will be here for you until the day I make my own journey home.  I feel pretty confident that Ashley and Tony will be also. It is of the highest importance to me that you five create and maintain a lifelong bond. Jenny wanted this. It was important to her and now, it’s extremely important to me. It feels as though she left me with a full on task list of things to do. I knew her better than anyone else every did. I’ll handle the work she didn’t get a chance to finish. Not today, but hopefully soon. Please remember that I am here and that I love each one of you with so much of my heart.

To Jennifer:  I would say, rest in peace, my sister but somehow, I feel your rest is going to be delayed for a little while because my own peace will not come so easily and I may have to call on you for strength and direction from time to time. I didn’t do that much during our life together. Your need of me gave me purpose. God sent me to be your sister for the emotional support that I would give you and he gave you to me as a sister because I needed to be needed.  We were a good fit and I’m sorry for the times I failed you. We have work to do and after that work is done, you shall rest in peace and I will see you again when I join you.

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