Come with Me, Into the Trees

Hi everyone,

Firstly, I hope everyone has had a great Memorial Day weekend.

Today, the 25th, also marks what would have been Jenni’s 38th birthday. I can’t believe that this August will mark 5 years of her passing. It’s still surreal. It’s still painful.

For a long time, I had gotten through my grief of Jenni’s death by being angry at the many (MANY) annoying mistakes made by the medical professionals in charge of her care, and the lack of research done on her very aggressive, but very rare, form of cancer: mucoepidermoid carcinoma of the salivary gland. I will also continue with the small charity fund myself and another good friend of Jenni’s made together in order to being more awareness and opportunities for research: https://charity.gofundme.com/o/en/campaign/jenni-l-rowell-rare-cancers-research-fund/amandasutton

I’ve also gotten to recognize during the New Year in 2020 that, even though my good friend had lost her life, did not mean that my life was any less valuable; that my survivor’s guilt was misplaced. Yes, she was a wonderful person, and I and so many others will always have great memories of her, but if there was a way to exchange her life for mine, I would have done it. If there was the ability, and had anyone asked, “Would you give the rest of your time so that Jenni can live?”, I would have simply replied, “Of course.” Firstly, she was a wonderful person who deserved to live, secondly, she was a dear friend, thirdly, I felt that my life didn’t have much worth.

Jenni wouldn’t want me to feel so worthless. Jenni wouldn’t want me to feel so guilty.

I’m now the age that Jenni was when she passed. I still have grief to process, which I will continue to do through my art.

I have to forgive myself for not being able to ‘fix’ everything. I have to forgive myself for not being able to ‘save’ Jenni. I have to forgive myself for having a freak accident at work and being so injured that I wasn’t able to get to see her to say goodbye.

And so, the title of this blog is a song reference for how I’m feeling: stripped [right] down the bone.

It’s time to rebuild… And we can do that through art.

“Stripped” by Depeche Mode ©1986