Jennifer's Fight Song

Jennifer Heroux: May 21, 1973 - August 1, 2016

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.”

I have heard this quote ascribed to many people through the years, including even Winnie the Pooh! Where it comes from for certain is irrelevant, but its truth is what’s important. Today is the birthday of a person who – in my life- personifies those words. That person is a young lady named Jennifer Heroux, who today celebrates her 47th Birthday. She celebrates it not under quarantine, but in the total freedom, perfect health, and absolute glory of heaven.

I am not the Pope, and I do not have the authority to declare that someone is certainly in heaven. That being said, I am willing to step out on a limb when it comes to talking about my dear Jennifer.

I encountered Jenn during my years in the Old Catholic Church, and had the honor of getting to know her throughout her final years among us as she battled cancer. I don’t think I had ever met someone who was asked to bear a cross as heavy as hers. Jen’s life was riddled with suffering, abuse, and abandonment in a variety of ways. She suffered in her physical, mental, and emotional health. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer the wonderful women of the Gloria Gemma Foundation were there to provide a support network, and bring her the resources she needed to take care of herself.

When I met her, it was through a mutual friend who told me that Jennifer was asking some of the “big questions” that so many folks ask in times of suffering: questions about God, heaven, and “why”. I will never forget walking into her tiny living room (which was never less than a thousand degrees), and I first took the hand of this remarkable young lady. Completely emaciated from cancer treatments, and in constant pain, she smiled widely and introduced me to Midnight, her cat.

Jen would end up in the hospital, and we would be told that “it doesn’t look good.” We’d talk about funerals and next steps…and then Jen would be discharged, only to take up arms and continue her battle. One of my favorite stories about Jen is when another woman from Gloria Gemma was at the hospital working at the agencies resource table, and she saw Jen’s worker drop her off for an appointment. She looked physically weak, confused, and alone. The GG volunteer headed towards her ready to be an advocate and help for her, and then she realized that Jennifer was in the middle of firmly explaining to the nurses exactly what was happening with her health that day. Not only did she not need help, the volunteer wondered if Jen should start accompanying her on her own doctors visits!

Jen would talk to me about her suffering and her fears. She was Catholic, but not particularly religious…yet when she spoke of God to me I almost envied their obvious closeness. I told her about the life and writings of Saint Therese of Lisieux, - the Little Flower- and how her simple spirituality earned her the title of “Doctor of the Church”. In many ways, Jen was like my very own Little Flower.

I remember sitting with her once after one of the hospital 'bouts. She looked at me and said, “God isn’t done with me yet.” She accepted that God had asked her to carry a heavy cross, and she did it with strength, dignity, and loving gratitude for those around her.

When her days on earth were through, she went home to the Father surrounded by her support network, who were praying, crying, and loving her across the “waters of death” to the new life that was in store for her. I am not sure how someone can suffer in this life as she did, offering it all to God, and not see heaven’s gate when the journey here on earth is through. She was humble, gracious, funny, courageous, and gentle.

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.” In my own life, Jennifer stayed a while- for about three wonderful years- and she has most certainly left footprints on my heart. I am forever humbled by the spiritual gifts she shared with me, and it’s comforting to know that we have a God whose embrace heals every wound and makes those who suffer whole again.

When Jennifer passed a number of us spoke about how important it was that we tell Jennifer’s story: that we make her name and her strength known in the world. As more and more people take up the cross of cancer each and every day, it is imperative that they know the stories of courageous women like Jennifer to find a source of inspiration and determination.

She drew strength from a song called "This is My Fight Song." The words, in part, are:

"Like a small boat on the ocean, sending big waves into motion.

Like how a single word can make a heart open.

I might only have one match, but I can make an explosion.

And all those things I didn't say, wrecking balls inside my brain:

I will scream them loud tonight, can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song, take back my life song, prove I'm alright song!

My power's turned on, starting right now I'll be strong!

I'll play my fight song, and I don't really care if nobody else believes:

'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me"

Jennifer, today as we celebrate our birthdays let us pray for one another! I will pray that you soak in every drop of eternal glory, and I ask that you pray for me to live the lessons you taught me. May we all carry our crosses with such dignity and hope! May we all make such powerful use of our "one match"! I promise you this Jen, I'll keep singing your fight song until we sing it together with God! Until then, rest in God's love!