She was my best friend. The sister I never had. My soul mate. She died Thursday July 17, 2003. She would have made it to 30 in September. I recently moved to another state. She was going to visit me for her birthday.

She gathered the courage to go on vacation to Hawaii. For several months she had had horrible headaches. Test after test: they couldn’t find the cause. She couldn’t sleep. If she tried to make the already difficult trip down the hallway, she would vomit from the headaches. While taking in the sites of Hawaii, she collapsed, went in to a coma. The test results showed that her brain wasn’t getting any oxygen and it was swollen. She was brain dead. The after 24 hours decision was made to pull the plug.

The one wish she had was not to die slowly in the hospital or at home from this disease. Maybe there is a god after all.

The thing that brings me back from crying so hard that I can’t breathe is remembering that she, finally and magically, isn’t sick anymore.

Jen isn’t coughing until she turns purple while everyone around her watches and then, so politely, asks if she is o.k. She doesn’t have to make anymore trips to she doctor with her oxygen tanks following close behind, while anyone she sits near gets up and moves as far away as they can. I suggested adding to her tattoo collection with one across her forehead that said – I AM NOT CONTAGIOUS!

She will be missed by so many people.

For someone who wakes up every day, and goes to sleep every nigh. Wondering. Knowing, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe she’ll take a turn for the worst, maybe she won’t come home from the hospital this time. Even with that grim future, she was so wonderful to be around. Everyone who was fortunate enough to spend time with her spent it laughing.

Everything was a new and wonderful memory for her to hold on to. She used to get so frustrated with me because I could never remember anything (I can’t remember yesterday) she would say “remember when we went too this place and met these guys. You were wearing this outfit with those shoes and this choker?’ Down to the very last detail. Hmmm. No. I don’t remember. Now, it’s amazing how many memories have come rushing back. My brain can’t even keep up with the download.

When I met her, when we were 18. She had never been anywhere or done anything. She told me of so many things she wanted to do and so many places she wanted to see.

So that was my reason for being on this planet. I took her everywhere I could. Took her to see everything (within reason).

She always told me the reason she was here was to make me laugh & smile.

Shouldn’t it have been the other way around?

Dear god I miss her. It’s breaking my heart every day that I wasn’t there. I was supposed to be there. I was supposed to be at her bedside. Before I had kids, when she would have to be hospitalized, I would stay with her. I would sleep in those plastic chairs so she wouldn’t be alone. She used to get so scared.

To want her back is just being selfish. I hope she’s running and taking deep, deep, breaths. I know she’s better now.

I just miss her smile.