Jenna

It’s taken me a long time to write this post, though I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.  A lot has happened in the last few months — normally I’d feel the need to recap (for myself and whoever actually reads this).  But I just don’t have the energy, and it seems like all of my memories since Thanksgiving are overshadowed and associated with the loss I still feel from Jenna’s death.

*sigh*

George (Jenna’s dad) wrote this note shortly after she died of cardiac arrest.  I think it is the best summary I can give:

On Saturday, January 8, 2011, we lost our beautiful daughter, wife, sister, and friend Jenna Miller. She died peacefully in the loving arms of her husband Ben. She was blessed to have Ben in her life for seven wonderful years. Jenna battled an eating disorder for most of her adult life. She never gave up. We thank everyone who stuck with her through the highs and lows. 
There will be countless future moments when we pause to remember our beautiful Jenna. We miss her so much. Thanks to everyone for their love.

I also miss her so much, and know that my pain can’t even begin to match what my brother is feeling.  Jenna was so full of life, fun, and spunk – it’s so hard to believe that she’s really gone.  At the family service in Maryland her sister commented that Jenna always “sparkled.”  I thought it was a perfect way to describe how all of us experienced her.  We traded stories about her outlandish taste in music, art and random gift packages covered in cat stickers.  We all wore something with Jenna “flair” to the service (bright pink hats, scarves, fuzzy boots…).  I’m so thankful that Aaron and I were both there to celebrate her short, but amazing 26 years on this earth.  It was a beautiful ceremony and a sweet time for family and close friends to come together.  I’m also very thankful for my family (both immediate and extended) who traveled long distances to be there.

Death is always hard.  I know that from enough experience.  But I think this loss has been harder to grieve, both because I know she was fighting so much, and because I know she never intended to hurt herself or others.  Bulimia is such a horrible and consuming disease, but I do believe that Jenna was fighting and working toward recovery.  And I know that Ben was fighting for her too.  I’m thankful that she is at peace, but I hurt for my brother (and for Jenna’s family), especially as they grieve the years of life Jenna never got to live.

Throughout this time I’ve been keenly aware of the fact that I’m grieving death while a new life is growing inside of me.  It makes me all the more grateful for life in general, and cognizant of how little control we have over each day.  Ben has been so amazing as he’s faced this, and has actively reminded all of us to dive into our grief (not away from it) and to honor Jenna’s life by remembering and celebrating all that we loved about her.  I know without a doubt that God used Jenna to touch my family in amazing ways.  She taught Ben so much about compassion and modeled a spirit of inclusivity and nonjudgement in everything she did.  Jenna taught me a great deal about strength, humility and forgiveness.  She constantly encouraged me and always joined in my joy in life – no matter how small.  The last thing that she ever said to me (in an email) was, “I can’t wait to meet the greene bean.”  While our little one will never meet his or her “Aunt Jenna,” I’ll be sure to tell our child everything I can about her. 

I know our lives will continue and my grief will change over time.  At this moment I’m content with my tears because I’m grateful for the opportunity to remember her in such vivid ways.  I know that God is also using this experience to mold and shape me in my character and my heart. 

Here are some of my favorite shots of Jenna.

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