Jessica's Pictures, On Her Birthday

Jessica Novak, Photographer. 1988-2015.
Teacher, learner, seeker, storyteller, lover, giver.
Show sponsored in her honor by her Mom, Jen Berghage.

Once upon a time, in what feels like a lifetime ago, I was a person who was employed at Penn State. The work my unit did was to partner with academic colleges and faculty to develop and deliver high-quality and accessible online degree programs to adult students. During my time there, I hired or helped to hire and then train a number of awesome folks. My friend Jen was one of those people.

In 2015, my friend's daughter Jessica slipped into her celestial star-suit. She was only 26, but she had battled major health issues for several years. A team of doctors in several states worked with her but could not figure it out in time. When my friend Jen's daughter died, I thought we would lose Jen too.

But my friend rallied and the experience was transformative. Loss was a crucible that wrought grace in her. My friend has gone on to publish two books about her experience, including the stories of how she and her daughter write back and forth to each other in their journals.

Jessica was a photographer, and my friend wanted to find some way to honor her daughter in that regard. So she worked with State College Framing Company to put together an exhibit of her daughter's works. On this day, which turns out to have been Jessica's birthday (or Cupcake Day, to her mother; and celebrated with sweets), I went and toured Jessica's photo exhibit.

Above you may see some of the pictures from the exhibit. They reveal that Jessica was a very talented photographer, both in regard to the subjects she selected and the treatments she gave them. Tulips and toe shoes and rainbows and reflections and ferns and stairsteps and waterfalls.

A personal favorite is the picture of the girl with a long cigarette, wearing a tiara, posed against a red background. I made my photos and posted them on Facebook. Overnight, her mother gave me a personal guided tour, commenting on every single photo and telling me the story behind each. Here is the story of "Tiara Princess," as told by her mom, my friend; Jen, I hope you won't mind.

This is the "tiara princess," who declares, "I choose," because women are no longer taking dictation from the patriarchy. She is wearing her tiara, a great set of pearls around her neck, long gloves, a gorgeous dress, and she's smoking, which means she chooses all of her companions along her pathway of life. That's what life is for. Not sainthood. Individuality. Let's experience and celebrate that. Not legislate it or judge it.

Many of the pictures had quotes with them, which were quotes from conversations between Jess and Jen. Here are a few of those quotes:

Use your beautiful imagination; it's a little bit of Heaven, all yours.
With love, we can do hard things.
Rest and reflect.
I choose.
Life is something you move through.
I forgive you. I release you. I am free.
Love heals.

Several other artists had their work on exhibit at the Framing Company, and I am including a wall of whimsical creatures I hope you will also enjoy. That shot is in the extras.

I have tried not to get too far into the emotions behind all of this, but as you might have suspected, a whole lot of love and tears went into this exhibit, and into the books. I was a reader for my friend, and gave her feedback on several drafts; suggested the perfect photo of Jen and her "Mini Me" for the cover of her first book; loved on her and chatted with her through the loss and the tears and the pain. And the joys of sweet rememberings, almost hurting worse than the loss in some ways.

My sister Barb died after her daughter died; and so it came to be that Jen was one of my anchors in grief. I remember her writing to me on Facebook one tough time: "Repeat after me," she said. "I'm okay, she's okay, it will all be okay." A mantra to say, in the early days, as I held onto trees and wept. I am working at arriving at gratitude instead of sorrow; I am, I swear.

The ones we love are still with us. They have beautiful, perfect souls that outlive their earthly bodies. They fly above us and watch over us. They sit in our hearts and keep us warm. We honor them as best we can, with words, and images, and love. So here are Jessica's photos, on her birthday. Happy Cupcake Day, Jess! You are still your mother's little sparkle-puff!

I asked Jen if she'd like to pick a song to go with this story, a song for her and her daughter, and all of these pictures. I haven't heard back from her yet (she's a night owl and I'm an early bird, so - much like the tale of Ladyhawke - seldom do the twain meet on Facebook in real time, LOL!). So I'll put this one here as my place-holder: INXS, with Never Tear Us Apart. And now I can update this posting with another link, this one provided by my friend Jen: Odetta, with This Little Light of Mine. I'm back to add another one: Kate Twoey, of Pure Cane Sugar, wrote a song called Freeing Jess, in Jessica's honor. You may listen to that song here (go to the link, it's a few songs down).

Links:
Jen's blog, Dreamkeeper Creations
This posting on her blog celebrates Jessica's life and passing; it also inspired the song written by Kate Twoey (see song link above).
Jen's first book, Coming Alive After Death: Recovery from Grief
Jen's second book, Letters from Celestial Jess: After-Life Messages from My Daughter


P.S. And now I'm going to end this by telling you a secret. I hope she won't mind. Jen is the one who gifted the world with the New Madonna of Spring Creek. That story appears here and here.