Today last year my very good friend Jeniffer Sarah Foose passed away. She actually passed away in the early morning hours of this day last year, in a hospice room in Phoenix, thirteen days after having been diagnosed with cancer. She had been feeling quite a bit of pain for a few months, but only went to the hospital when it became unbearable. I did not know about any of this because Jeniffer and I were not speaking at the time. She had been my spiritual teacher for four years prior, and as intense friendships often do, we had separated as abruptly as we had been brought together. And two years after we had last spoke, I received a phone call that Jeniffer was in the hospital. I asked if Jen herself had asked that I be contacted (given our lack of communication I did not want to step on any toes) I was told yes she had asked, at that point I knew it was serious. I got in my car and drove to county hospital, when I got to the hospital and saw that her room number was 222 (my spiritual number) and then I knew that Jen was going to die.
Hospital Room #222
Here were some facts about Jeniffer's life, she was transgendered, she was poor and she the wisest person I have ever met. Her house was filled floor to ceiling with books, and the other wall movies. She could fly a plane and build a house, both of which she did. She was an artist and an inventor, she often called herself a "Renaissance woman", I suppose that is the female equivalent of a "Jack of all trades". She had at least fifteen different types of instruments in her home, all that she could play. Jen was a spiritual teacher, I would say almost a shaman, or a seer, or in my case a deliverer. When I first met Jen she was wearing a shiny spandex jumpsuit with a large circular belt, she had a blunt bang haircut and was smoking a cigarette on a Vespa...she looked like a superhero. And I needed a superhero.
Picture in my old studio
The next four years I would say we were in daily contact, she taught me how to live, how to show up for my life, how to be consistent and how to walk through fear. She taught me the warriors path. How to live like every decision you make may lead to your death, how to live with authenticity, how to be that deliberate. It is difficult to describe a person like Jeniffer, it seems disingenuous, perhaps even a disingenuous intention, simply because of the size of the personality we are dealing with here. I was in constant amazement of Jeniffer's view of the world and its inhabitants. And never in my life have I had someone repeat me back to myself with such clarity and vision, and in that way I was freed from false thought. And that was any thought that limited God.
Jenism's: Random statements that Jen would make that I would write down.
"Let every action be a prayer, and every experience a meditation"
"You are here to recover your original intent, to be useful to other human beings"
"You MUST reduce your certainty. As long as you are certain, God has no room to change anything about your situation"
"Not every feeling demands an action. "
"Do not make any decision until you are serene about it"
"Live as though Death is on your left shoulder, you simply have no time to waste"
And when I asked Jen what she believes her message is, she replied "Wake up", except she said it very loudly and close to my face.
I arrived at the hospital to find my good friend Jen in a lot of pain, thin and afraid. Death is not a beautiful process, and for a 54 year old woman who actively avoided doctors even though she herself was an RN, Jen I believe knew on some primal level that she was going to be leaving planet earth.
My schedule cleared and I spent the next thirteen days with Jeniffer as she let go of this life.
Hospital Still Life
Scarves and Hospital Beds
Hospital Blinds
The last six of those days were spent in hospice with a veritable gaggle of angels, hospice workers are an entirely different breed. The Universe knew to give Jen the nurse who was an old hippie, who went on her smoke breaks and whom Jen instantly would have been friends with. Jeniffer had long time friends from many different states who dropped what they were doing and flew down to be with her one last time. Artists, musicians, homesteaders, scientists and healers. She had that kind of affect on people.
Hospice
I was very grateful to spend her last few days together in the quiet of the hospice. The hospice workers informed me that she would go through the stages of birth but backwards, and that she would change everyday. One day she was still talking and the next that part of her life was simply done. Then it was her eyes no longer opening. Then it was an automated suckling response, just like a baby. I was in awe of this amazing process that is life and death. And honored that I could get to care for Jen in the same way that she had cared for me. That when I was vulnerable and without friends, that Jeniffer provided the spiritual and emotional nurturance that led to my freedom. That she walked through fear with me. And that I was now able to do the same for her. I played her all of her favorite songs, brushed her hair, painted her nails and took her in walks in her wheelchair. I had her dressed in her favorite clothes and I braided her hair. We had beautiful talks during that time, mostly through energy and forgiveness.
When she passed out of consciousness I had a waking vision of her next to me in my bed. When I rushed to hospice the next day they said she had slipped into unconsciousness. Her good friend who had stayed through the night said "Spacesuit Earth" and tapped her body. She was about to leave her body. I felt Jen would leave on the thirteenth day, as that is a spiritual number, and it was a Sunday, and Jen would not have wanted to be a burden. And just as imagined, on the thirteenth day Jeniffer passed into the next realm. I had no fear, because she was going to that place that she and I had long postulated and philosophized about. I would not fear God and Earth, the very things Jeniffer taught me all about.
I have since had dreams of Jen ascending. In my dreams she flies up and calls to me saying "Watch! See this!", just as she would have in life. Always teaching.
Love you Jen. Miss you.