The beautiful, Jennifer Espinet aka JeniViva.

(this article has been posted a day late. Note when referencing to days)

I woke up the other morning, on my birthday, with a panic in my heart. Anxiety was present. I looked out the bedroom window to greet the day, that had yet to be blessed with the light of the suns rays. I thought I would feel an instant calmness while looking out at the dark sky. I did not, and so I asked myself, “Why are you feeling like this? IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY!”. Aren’t we all supposed to be HAPPY on our birthday??? I couldn’t understand.

I looked at my phone laying on the floor next to the bed and noticed I had a long message from a friend on Skype. I figure reading it would get me in a good mood. Then I decided to look at some birthday wishes people were leaving for me on Facebook. I was sure that would lift my spirits as well, and sooth that racing heart of mine. I smiled a bit. Yet, I still had this frantic feeling pulsing through me. I proceeded to open a private message from one of my friends. He wrote…. “dont mean to #!$@ up your bday, but did you hear about jeni…?”

I was presented with one of those moments where I knew something was wrong and I didn’t know what it was yet.  I could either try to avoid it for the time being, ignore the signs and my intuition, and go on celebrating my birthday in bliss. Or I could let my curiosity get the best of me and seek out the answer. Why wait and wonder? Right? Both ideas seemed perfect at the time. Curiosity won and without having the patience to write him back and wait for a response, I instantly started to type in Jen’s (Jeni’s) name in the search box. I landed on her page and saw the stream of comments wishing her a farewell and to rest in peace. (Only a month before I was in the same predicament, learning of a dear friend who took his own life.) I couldn’t help but scream out loud, “OH NO!!! NO! NO! NO!”, wilst covering my hand over my face and breaking down in a stream of salty tears.

I sat around as if a lost premature animal, not knowing what to do with myself or what to feel. I was in shock. I probably still am. I had to get ready for a  brief meeting at work and hopped in the shower, where I began to cry again. The last place I wanted to be, was in a meeting where I had to keep my composure.  But there I was, being greeted by my dear coworkers wishing me a “happy birthday”. It was so hard to hear those words. Words the day before, I could hardly wait to hear. All I wanted to do was celebrate life…..
Was hearing this tragic news really any reason to stop?

I felt deeply saddened. Deeply confused. Our meeting was going over it’s time. The extra 15 minutes felt like years. I waiting as patiently as I could, to get out of there. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I was holding back and holding in all these intense emotions for the past hour and 15 minutes. Trying to turn myself off and not make the meeting utterly awkward (by a possible outburst of sorrow) for anyone . Other than myself, that is. When I got to the car, I felt relieved as I allowed myself to be vulnerable and began to mourn the death of a beautiful woman, Jennifer Espinet, who I had been friends with for over 20 years.  And at the same time, I was about to dash off to celebrate my birthday at a Renaissance Festival. How do you do that too? I can’t say it was easy.

I felt like I was on a roller coaster ride, going up and down all day. I managed to have some fun. I pretended like my friend Jen was there with me. There was so much she would enjoy about the RenFest. I caught so many glimpses of her while there. I avoided answering the phone. I felt like I did not want to be seen, because I did not want to fake how I was feeling. Again, here I am protecting others from an awkward situation, or was I really protecting myself?

When I woke up the next day (yesterday) at my best friends house (thank goodness for close friends), it all came down on me like a ton of bricks. Without the limitations I placed on myself the day before, I was finally able to grieve. And grieve I did.

I realize now, that I just need to allow what shows up, to show up in it’s Divine order. I know not to supress my feelings, yet I did. And I do. I was so set on celebrating, and I’m happy I kept it in my consciousness to do so. However, my birthday is not the only day I have to celebrate life, my life and the lives around me. Everyday is. And we should all, always, celebrate it – as it is ultimately very precious and so worth the celebration. This was a day to celebrate my life as well as Jen’s. It was also a day to release the sadness as I am so happy I knew Jen. I’m so thankful for our memories and friendship. I feel so blessed.

I normally finish writing these posts in a day, yet yesterday I stopped. Now I know why. I came across something last night. Only hours before Jen’s death, she wrote something on her Facebook page, after 4 people she knew past away in tragic deaths, all in the same week! She wrote a prayer, ironically for people grieving their loss, and now it is read by those grieving the loss of her physical existence on this planet. I would like to share it with you and hope that you too can find healing….so you can make room for the CELEBRATION!

“My prayer (for those left behind)
Healing. Light like molten lava 
emerging filling in 
every crack of your despair 
and you shall be healed
and the wound will no longer ache
and the heart will somehow learn to be whole again.
The Love…This Love
never ends.”
<3
J.

Here is a song Jen turned me onto this year, after first hearing it while in France, herself. In dedication to such a beautiful, Goddess, friend, lover, healer, dancer, gypsie, potion creator, etc., Jennifer Espinet aka JeniViva.  I love you so!

And may we all remember to celebrate life, our lives and the lives of others – living and past. I found the time to blast Madonna’s song, “Holiday” before getting out of the car to go enjoy the RenFest with one of my best friends. We got pumped up. It was nice. Try it sometime.

Beauty From Love: “Everyday is a celebration of life in all forms.”

With Eternal Love,

Tara