death

Jen’s mother died this weekend.

Jen is a friend. Albeit, one who has, at times, driven me to the end of my rope with her ‘immature’ behaviour (it’s not “immature” so much as just…I dunno. It’s just part of her personality. Most days it’s ok. Some days, like when I was assistant editor with her on the literary arts magazine, it caused me to want to pull my eyelashes out)

But when push comes down to shove, I really like Jen. She’s fun and quirky. Some of her poetry totally blows my mind. And her heart is always in the right place, even if her brain is a few steps to the side.

Jen’s mum had cancer. It went in to remission. It came back.

She went in to the hospital on Wednesday with kidney problems and died on Saturday. Jen was home for something totally unrelated which was fortunate, as she lives four-ish hours away. Mostly I think her mum probably timed things, in a way that only the chronically ill can do. So Jen was there, with the rest of her family, with her mum when she died. She said she kept tugging the oxygen mask off and saying “home, home”

Jen’s the kind of girl who randomly and openly talks about bodily functions, vaginas, and the wonders of vibrators. She’s young. 20, maybe? And I have a habit of thinking of her as a bit of a kid sister.

We…Jen, Em, Adelina and I…went to Em’s apt tonite. After, of course, the obligatory icecream run to BiLo where we bought 5 gallons of ice cream. heh. We made root beer floats. Jen worked on Tobeco stuff and Em worked on hw and Adelina and I played nintendo and there were random bits of chatter. I think none of us knows what to do. I think we are never taught the ‘proper’ way to greive. We just pick it up from sources here and there. And everyone’s source is different and so it’s hard to greive together. For me, anyways.

I don’t feel well. I didn’t feel well earlier, and Em had been trying to convince me to come over to her place already, just to get me out of my place, just to keep me out of bed for a few hours. I declined. But then we were talking about Jen and a LJ entry she had written discussing someone’s passing and I didn’t think it was her mother but as we were chatting, she called Em and it turns out it was her mum. So I got dressed and went over.

Life is pain, Princess. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something. -The Princess Bride