“Do you remember when we used to sing?”

Grade 10 physics was a very difficult course. The teacher was amazing, the class was fun, but the material was painful. Hours of study were required to grasp the mathematical equations and theories behind such things as the speed of planetary masses and their volumes. These hours of study seemed to fly by a lot faster when I spent them with Jodie. She was the smartest girl in our class and one of the prettiest, as well. We would attempt to figure out what this physics business was all about while jamming to the latest tunes and inhaling all the sugar we could get our hands on in order to keep our brains active.


The evening before our physics midterm exam we were again together at Jodie's house being our usual boisterous, silly (and studious) selves. About twenty minutes into our intensive session, she decided we needed a break. I was in full agreement. The music on her favourite radio station was blasting in the background. We had always required something to hum along with in order to keep the energy level high. Jodie was not fond of the particular selection that was playing during our “break” and decided that we needed to call the radio station and request something different--something we could really belt out. The song she decided on was by Van Morrison called, “Brown Eyed Girl.” I am sure it was no coincidence that her eyes are brown as well.

“Do you remember when we used to sing, Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da!” rang from the top of our lungs when the disk jockey finally played our request. After the song was over, he wished us luck on our midterm over the air. We instantly felt popular and cool -- whenever I hear that song now I still think of Jodie.

Jodie is an amazing individual. She was a member of Canada’s World Junior trade mission to Malaysia in 1998. She was our class valedictorian and she gave a truly amazing speech on the power of dreams. She was awarded the Governor General’s Award for academic excellence upon graduation along with numerous other scholarships. She studied at Memorial University of Newfoundland and the University of Edmonton, earning undergraduate degrees.

After university, she met a dashing young fellow and the two fell madly in love. The quotation under Jodie's picture in the yearbook had read, “I want nothing for myself, only a tall, dark, handsome son-in-law for my parents.” And she got that in spades! Jodie was wed in a beautiful ceremony held in our home town. Not long after, Jodie discovered that a little one was on the way. Nine months later, or thereabouts, a gorgeous baby girl was born and was named Emma. She was immediately the love of Jodie’s life--her absolute pride and joy.

I do not remember when I last saw Jodie face-to- face. We were the type of friends who always kept in touch through email and facebook. We were able to follow each others lives through photos and the occasional chat on the telephone. Her pictures burst with a thousand words, and they always clearly expressed the happiness of the life that she had both created and deserved.

I can remember how excited my old friend was to let me know that she was pregnant once again. This time, however, the pregnancy was not nearly as pleasant as her first one. The morning sickness was more intense and she seemed to have nagging pains throughout. The doctors assured her that it was normal for pregnant women to feel uncomfortable and to have sore muscles due to increases in body-weight.

The real mystery of these dramatic discomforts was only discovered when Jodie went into labour. Her labour was premature and was an extremely painful and taxing ordeal. It was discovered at that time that the cause of all of her additional pain was a cancerous tumour which had rapidly developed during her pregnancy. The growth resulted in the miscarriage of her new baby, and this wreaked tragedy in every sense of the word. Not only did Jodie lose her baby but was faced with the daunting diagnosis of a very rare form of cancer. I can only imagine that her turmoil must have been unparalleled. Her family was informed that given the seriousness of her condition, the doctors were unclear if she would be able to pull through the operation required to remove the tumour. It was a time of shock, bewilderment and grief for everyone who knew and loved her.

Jodie picked herself up from her painful ordeal and made it through the surgery successfully. Her journey with cancer, however, had just begun. She was to undergo intensive and pervasive chemo-therapy in an effort to truncate the spread of the deadly disease. She faced it all, being a powerful woman, with a type of courage that I had never had the privilege to witness before. Jodie was purely motivational. She latched onto this life with all of the fervour and grace imaginable.

After a tremendous battle with cancer involving many rounds of treatment, and in her twenty-eighth year--Jodie was taken from us. She was a mother, a wife, a daughter, and she was my friend. Her life was a pure example of courage. I am both grateful and blessed to have known her. She changed who I am as a person and taught me at a very young age the value of making each and every day count. Jodie's memory inspires me whenever I think of her.

Raymond Lindquist, a pastor in the Presbyterian Church, is quoted as having said: “Courage is the power to let go of the familiar.” From Jodie I have learned also that courage can be defined as having the strength to say good-bye. She will always be my special brown-eyed girl.

My Dearest Jodie: “Do you remember when we used to sing?”