This is Jenn. She had a birthday last week.
And she is a special one.
During our last few days in Oregon when life was crazy. And emotional. And sometimes I felt like I was a chicken with it's head cut off. She was there at every turn. Checking in. Helping. Loving. Giving humor. Reassuring and providing a safe place to land.
When snow cancelled Anna's last day of school and I was left without a vehicle she lent me her shiny van for the day.
When I needed to clean our house top to bottom she took a cranky Anna off of my hands and entertained her for hours like it was no big deal.
When our garbage cans were filled 3 days before pick-up and I had 10 more giant bags of trash from cleaning out the house she happily let me fill their dumpster to overflowing.
When our house was empty and sterile, and my boys were 600 miles away, she gave Anna and I a warm & comfortable place to stay for the night.
{Josie was my little friend while I got ready in the morning, and Anna attached herself to Jenn.}
When I pulled up to her house (driving her van), tired from the day of cleaning, an inviting dinner of soup and bread and strawberries was waiting in the kitchen for me.
When I commented that my hands were dry and worn from all the cleaning chemicals, in a stroke of serendipity she had already placed a tube of lovely hand cream in a gift bag in my guest room.
When I needed to talk and feel and reminisce she served me a rootbeer float and listened.
When I woke up in the morning, the house was calm & peaceful, which struck me because I knew there were 3 children getting ready for school . . . I sat down at the table and she served me hot chocolate.
{hot chocolate & a heart}
When it was time to leave town she made sure I visited our house one last time to say good-bye.
When we drove out of St. Helens for the last time, passing the church, the stores, the places that have made up our everyday life for the last 10 years, . . . I cried, and she cried with me.
When we walked into the aiport, pulling 3 large suitcases, 2 tote bags, a pillow, and a limping Anna she had her camera on hand to document it . . . this big step in our journey.
When I worried what these changes & the distance might mean for "our group" going forward, she assured me that this was a sure, lasting friendship. We will be in each other's lives for a long time to come.
When we hugged and said good-bye see you later, heading in our separate directions, I tried to hold it together before entering the security line . . . I turned for one more wave and was comforted by the smile on her face that seemed to say, "you can do this."
Like I said. She is a special one. I literally don't know how I would've made it through those last few days without her.
I have shared my personal thanks with her. But she does a lot to lift others' hearts in her subtle Jenn-way (everyone who knows her, knows what I'm talking about) . . . . and she deserves to be noticed. She has this magic quality that makes you feel connected and at home. She has a tender & happy heart and she shares it.
I'm so glad that I get the chance to experience her magic. To feel the warmth in her home. And the joy & friendship in her laugh.
And I can't wait to get together again soon, and over the years. I think there needs to be some serious celebrating for a certain 40th birthday in just __ years. ;)
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