Jennifer’s Eulogy
Welcome, everyone, and thank you for coming to Jennifer’s celebration of Life. I am Dawn Stilwell, and I am Jennifer’s oldest sister. On behalf of our family, we thank and appreciate those of you who were able to come today because I know many of you have traveled a long way to be here.
Growing up, our family lived in Dover Center, a rural hamlet, not far from here, between Chatham and Wallaceburg. There was our parents, Danny and Marsha, and then myself, Lori and Jennifer. Back then, she was Jenny to everyone. But when she was older, she preferred Jennifer or Jen. Even after the 30 years since she became an adult, it was sometimes still hard not to slip back into calling her Jenny. But we did try to do our best. And she did her best not to be too savage when we did!
As a child, Jennifer was bright, inquisitive and gentle in nature. We were basically feral children by today’s standards. She, Lori and I were often found playing outside, hanging out with the neighbor kids, exploring ditches, climbing trees, riding our bikes. Or in the winter, we were skating on the frozen swale next door, building awesome tunnel forts in the snowy ditches, (much to our mom’s dismay, as she thought they would collapse on us) and having snowball fights.
When cooped up inside the house, we would play with dolls and Jennifer especially liked to play with Barbies. Back then, cartoons were only on on Saturday mornings and maybe after school, once in a while. We didn’t spend a lot of time watching TV. To say that we were tomboys would be an accurate statement. I have many happy memories of our childhood in Dover Centre.
Our lives diverged as young adults. I married my childhood sweetheart and Jennifer went off to the big City of Windsor to go to school to become a sign language interpreter. She was a semester short of completing the program when the money ran out, so she took a security job to make ends meet. That job somehow led her to becoming a customs officer, a vocation she stayed with for the next 30 years. She worked as a customs broker right up until a few weeks before she passed. But during those 30 years, she took the opportunity to go back to school, not once, but twice, and was also a bonafide medical secretary and transcriptionist. Apparently, it didn’t pay as well as being a customs broker did, so never did work in that field.
Jennifer had an uncanny knack for making friends easily, and she had friends from many walks of life. To me, she’d always been my little kid sister. But as I got to know her friends, I saw another side of her. She was considered cool and awesome by many people. And I have realized this to a greater extent as I have read the many tributes that were written to her on the website I created for her at www.jenniferellis.org. But you know, Jennifer was awesome to me as well. My sister was strong, resilient, and always pragmatic. She was witty and sarcastic with a sometimes-dry sense of humour. But I could always count on her. There were times in my life when I was struggling and she was there for me. And in turn, there were times when she struggled. And I was able to be there for her, as sisters do.
Jennifer was also a very generous person who liked to be able to help when she could. It was not uncommon for her to invite you out to a restaurant for a meal and then pick up the check at the end. And she wouldn’t hear of sharing the bill. Before I delve into the deeper stuff, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Jennifer’s collection of graphic T shirts that often displayed her wit and twisted humor. I have to say we shared warped or dark sense of humor that was on display many times in the last months of her life. Obviously, facing one’s own death is a sad thing to do, but when you can make light of the situation and find the humor, however dark, it did help to make the inevitable just a little more bearable.
I had only a mere inkling of Jennifer’s strength prior to her cancer diagnosis. During her fight with cancer, she was so strong, so determined to get through what had to be done. In the midst of it all, she really hated the saying, ‘she was a battling cancer.’ For her, she was just doing her best to survive, doing what needed to be done. She was the embodiment of the phrase, let’s git ‘r done. She suffered through many treatments and procedures on her way to remission. And she had to do it all of it alone because of the pandemic. Hospital policies did not allow for support people to accompany her, so she did it by herself and did not complain. She got through everything, symbolically rang a gong at the end of her treatments, and looked forward to a time of healing and remission.
Unfortunately, Jennifer’s remission was only a brief few weeks before her cancer symptoms began to return. Jennifer was stoic in the face of uncertainty. With the bad news that the cancer had returned, she valiantly gave chemo one last hurrah. But when the side effects of chemo compromised her quality of life to an even greater degree than she was already suffering, she decided one day that she’d just had enough. She gracefully conceded to cancer, asking to be put on palliative care only. We watched her struggle briefly with her decision, and then relax, into the acceptance of her fate. We, too, struggled with the knowledge that our beloved Jennifer would soon no longer be with us. How long, we didn’t know, only that she had weeks or maybe even a few months at best, to live at this point.
The last few months of Jennifer’s life were spent with the many people who loved her. There was our mom, who had moved in with Jennifer and looked after her. There were the many friends and family who came from near and far to visit, to reminisce, to profess their love and to say their goodbyes in person. In fact, her childhood friend Tatiana Robinson flew out from Vancouver to have one last visit with Jennifer. I am grateful to each and every one who visited Jen; those who called, texted or left messages on the website or Facebook for her. Your kindness really touched Jennifer’s heart in her final days. It was a gift that she truly cherished.
On to a lighter story for you. On Jennifer’s bucket list for many years was the wish to attend the Wave Gotin Treffek Gothic music festival in Liepzig, Germany one day. She had received her cancer diagnosis just as the pandemic started, and although she was well enough in 2020 to be able to go, they cancelled the festival. Last year was a wash because the festival was still canceled, and Jennifer was also too sick by then to travel. In the weeks before she passed, she did say she wished she had taken the time to go when she had her health. It was the only regret I remember her sharing with me in those final weeks.
I found a Facebook group for the festival and I asked if it was possible that someone was traveling from Canada who could take Jennifer’s ashes to the festival so that she could visit it posthumous? I was informed that there are some pretty strict rules in Germany for the handling of human ashes. Someone in the group suggested instead that it was probably better and safer, if someone would print out and take Jennifer’s picture to the festival and that Jennifer could be there in spirit. One very kind individual jumped right up to answer the call. His name is Helmut and he lives in Austria. He said not only would he take Jennifer to the Wave Gotik Treffen festival, but he would also take her to all the music festivals in Germany because he was going to visit many of them this year. Another kind soul asked me to join her Facebook group for the same festival. She asked me to send her pictures of Jennifer and she would ask the members of her group if they would take Jennifer’s picture to the festival as well. And then others messaged me and asked for Jennifer’s picture to take to the festival. I have had bands reach out and say they’d love to show her picture on the backdrop screen behind them. And Helmet, true to his word, has already gone to three different music festivals and sent me back pictures of Jennifer at them with him. Photos of her not only in the concert, but also with the lead singers from these bands holding up her picture to be photographed. The kindness of these strangers has moved me deeply. I have been uploading the photos to the website and will continue to do so throughout the music festival season this summer. I was a bit bummed that we couldn’t get Jennifer’s ashes to Germany for the festival. But you know what? I’m sure she’ll be there in spirit, with potentially hundreds of kind strangers bringing her picture along with them, being part of her dream to be able to attend Wave Gotik Treffen.
You know, this would not be a proper eulogy if I failed to mention Jennifer’s love of turtles. I’m not even sure how that came about, but she’s always loved them. Her email addresses contain the word turtle, and she collected turtles of all kinds for all of her life. When we were cleaning out her apartment, it was then that I realized what a sentimental woman my sister was when I found that she had kept what appeared to be every turtle she was ever given. I would not be exaggerating to say that there were literally hundreds of turtle knickknacks, turtle jewelry, turtle stuffies, to name but a few. There were enough there to open up a turtle store! The immediate family has already selected the ones they’d like to keep, and the fate of many of them remains in question, but I have brought some here today. If you would like, please take one as a personal keepsake, a physical reminder of our beautiful friend and loved one, Jennifer.
How do you take a lifetime of love and condense it into just a few minutes? How to eulogize such an incredible person? I’ve tried to speak from the heart in a way that would honor Jennifer and to share with you the best of my sister, Jennifer.
I am honored to be her sister. I truly miss our talks, the jokes, and the laughter. But most of all, I miss the bond of sisterhood, her friendship and her presence in my life. For the rest of my days, there will always be a void in my life that only she could fill. Her absence reminds me of how fleeting life is, and how we should make the best of the time we have and to be mindful to be grateful for whom and what we have right now. In her memory, I will endeavor to make the most of the time I have left on this side of eternity, and I hope that all of you will do so as well.