The meet-up happened!

Of course, it went even better than I expected.  Intellectually, I knew it would.  Emotionally, I was shaking in my boots.  Jennifer’s sister has always been incredibly open, warm, encouraging, and welcoming.  There was no reason to expect any different.  However, I did start to experience Dallas’ devious (in a fun way) nature.  She mentioned that she had invited her Mom to the meet-up, and had let me know.  Honestly, that made me nervous.  As I mentioned in the last entry, I had not had direct interactions with her…ever.  Not sure how to adequately describe the nervousness.  It was not fear, I didn’t think she was going to yell at me or anything like that.  Perhaps it was the 30+ years of hard-wiring in my head to not cause harm, hurt, or emotional distress on Jen’s parents; they had their child stolen away and I can not imagine a greater hurt.  We enter the cemetery and navigate towards the area where Jennifer is.  There are 3 cars and 5 ladies waiting for us!  Her sister invited her aunts too!  Another car with an aunt and uncle rolls up as we are exiting our vehicle.  A half-circle of family forms around me, with my daughter abandoning me off to the side.  A video call was added to include another aunt!  A round of “Hi”s and introductions and then straight to the meat of the discussion…Who are you and how did you know Jennifer?  They want the details!  Wow!  Stress…

In all fairness, they were extremely nice and welcoming, even from the start.  Dallas (Jennifer’s Sister) confessed that she could sense my nervousness, so she just omitted the fact (playfully and deviously) that all of the family was coming.  Was probably a smart move on her part!  As the story unfolds, due to the ages of all of the aunts (being younger sisters of Jen’s Mom), they were like big sisters to Jennifer and had a tight connection.  After the accident, they stepped in and were active in helping raising Jennifer’s two (much) younger sisters.  They were very ingrained into the family, before and after.  Through the three hours we ultimately spent together, you could tell that they were closer than what I would describe as a typical Aunt-Niece relationship.

I start off with how we met, and how the relationship formed.  The endless hours on the phone together (their memories begin the endless agreements of recollection) and the dynamic of how our relationship was a connection of just us, the single point of connection of our social circles.  The phone leads to memories of other items in her room, the Hard Rock Teddy Bear that I had given her comes up.  I offer the back story of this item, how it was the only souvenir that I had returned from New York City with.  The conversation shifts to Jen's desire, even deterministic expectation, that she would become the first woman president.  Inside, I start to feel relief.  A long-standing question in my mind, was this a far-flung whimsy that was only shared with me, or something that she believed, even was working towards?  Confirmation that this was discussed with everyone else elevates it from flight of fancy to a key mechanism in who she was.  It also starts the confirmation process in my mind that I did actual know her.  Silly, perhaps, but after this many years of only telling stories to people that had not met her, my own mind has beaten me up with the possibility that I did not even know the Real Jennifer.

I mention that the forcefulness of some of her demands still compel me not to participate in certain activities.  They demand to know more, what activities?  It gets tricky.  These are people that I have just met.  People that are held in high regard in my eyes.  I do not want to let them down, but I also do not want to dive into more deviant and illegal activities, for fear of judgement.  I try to dodge, but ultimately am coerced into spilling the beans.  LSD.  Jen was adamant that I never take acid.  She had mentioned some stories about it staying in your system and causing permanent craziness.  I thought that it was horseshit, but at the time, she was so forceful, so insistent, that I did not press the issue too far or too long.  They all started nodding in agreement and understanding, she had a cousin that this did in fact happen to, so the fear she had was very much close to their family.  New (more complete) information.  More stories are exchanged.  Laughter.  Tears.  Hugs.

I bring up the encounter with the medium.  Figure that if I haven’t shocked them with the LSD story, then anything is fair game.  They are surprisingly onboard.  I tell of the shifts in thinking that the medium had suggested, that I might need to forgive Jennifer for walking across the Rainbow Bridge, and that meeting my wife so shortly after was a gift from Jennifer.  They seemed to understand the forgiveness angle (and had likely had to travel that path themselves).  They all liked, and latched on to, the idea of the gift.  I filled in details surrounding meeting my wife and how my thoughts of it happening because of the accident had caused serious conflict within me.  The idea of a gift was ratified.

As we move through the various stories and comparing notes, I get to the single date that we had.  WHAT?!?  These ladies we are new to me, so I wasn’t quite sure on the facial expressions and body language, but there seemed to be some shock (and perhaps delight from her sister).  Later texts with Dallas seemed to confirm my read of the situation.  Apparently, Jennifer never told her parents she was going on a date.  Out with friends perhaps, or whatever else a teenager can conjure up to get out of the house with minimal parental resistance.  I do seem to recall that when I arrived Jennifer bolted out the house door and into the vehicle.  I didn’t think anything of it at the time, why would I?  She was in my car and I was happy with that.  So, as I let this story unfold, I see her Mom’s face, a combination of confusion, wonder, and shock.  As I look around, Dallas seems almost giddy.  This is the first sign of ‘non-typical’ emotion for this kind of meeting.  I hurry through, brain still hard-wired to do no harm.  Follow-up texts with Dallas, that were about other specifics, and she confirms that her parents had no idea that Jen was going on a date, and Dallas was somewhat happy that her sister was able to pull off some ‘standard’ teenage rebellion tactics and enjoy some of the rights of passage that teens navigate.  More stories are bounced back and forth.  Laughter.  Tears.  Hugs.

I had stopped at the grocery store on the way and purchased a few roses, a white one that I had given her Mother upon meeting, a yellow one, given to Dallas upon arrival, and a red one for Jen’s tombstone.  All through these stories, the red one is my shield.  I am waving it around as an extension of my arm when talking and grasping it with both hands when listening, its thorns pricking me as a reminder to place it.  I suggest it is time to place the rose and we all begin to move towards the grave.  It is a location that I could pinpoint on a map, point to from 30,000 feet above, but as I turn to go there, I am lost, wandering.  Dallas points me in the right direction.  The mass of people divides into two groups, one with me, one with my daughter.  I can only imagine that they are peppering her with questions to understand me, or our family better.

Aunt Patty is the main person around me.  We talk through a multitude of stories, some off topic (of Jen specifically), but still therapeutic.  We stumble back to the medium and belief in their abilities to connect.  She talks about ‘gifts’ left behind by those that walk the Rainbow Bridge (my term).  I share the thought that Jen leaves dimes for me to find in some of the most random locations.  It feels like she is saying “Hi”, or sometimes scolding me even.  Whenever I find one on the ground somewhere, I stop to pick it up and reply back “Hi Jen”.

Aunt Patty mentions that she spends no time at the grave-sites of those she has lost, until today.  It is just too hard.  Yet we are close to three hours in.  She mentions that this meeting has been very therapeutic, even cleansing.  I feel happy that I could help get her to this point.  The two groups regather as one as she is saying goodbyes.  Somehow we get on the topic of talking about doing things and then never getting around to actually doing them.  This sparks the memories of talking about skydiving with Jennifer.  Some of the family had gone skydiving.  I share stories about how Jennifer and I would talk at length about jumping.  We were locked in, we were going to go after she turned 18 and didn’t need the parental waiver, or just a general rule of the diving school for no one under 18.  That these were plans that never had the opportunity to be completed.  That life happens after we make grand plans.  And that I did jump twice, one for each of us.

The sun is going down (are we going to be locked in the cemetery?).  We say our goodbyes and leave.  My daughter and I still have about an hour drive to Kansas City for our hotel.  After we exit the Turnpike, our hotel is on a street off to the left.  I miss the turn.  Looking down the road a little, I see a QuikTrip.  Good!  I can stop there and get a soda for the night and then we can turn around to get on the correct side road.  Walking out of the QuikTrip, there is a dime on the ground…Yeah, it was a good meetup, Jen.

In the days/weeks following the get together, I am surprised how my thoughts and feelings are seeming to shift.  If I start to think about Jennifer now, sure, there is still some sadness that she is not alive, but it is no longer the soul-crushing grief that it used to be.  There is a growing acceptance, even smiles at the good memories and the reaffirmation that I knew her.  Who would have guessed that, even after 30+ years, meeting with her family was ultimately what I would have needed to get over it.  I feel silly at the simplicity…