Growing up in the 70’s, Jennifer was a popular name. According to an article in the National Post,
Beginning in 1970, Jennifer was the top female baby name in the U.S., a position it would hold for a solid 14 years. The run was mirrored in Canada and, to a lesser extent, in the U.K. All before the Internet, before there was any readily available list of popular baby names from province-to-province or state-to-state.
Sure, lots of names drift in and out of popularity; but Jennifer was more than just a common baby name, it was a bona fide trend, a phenomenon. For a generation, it was almost impossible to walk into any grade-school classroom in North America without running into one — and probably two — girls named Jennifer, or Jenny or Jen.
“Jennifer is a case unto itself,” says Linda Rosenkrantz, who has been studying baby name trends since the ’80s. “The Jennifer epidemic came to signify a whole generation.”
And so, there were many Jennifers, or Jenns, in my life; so many that I had to differentiate which one I was talking about. “Jennifer that we grew up with”, “High school Jenn”, Camp Jenn, Roommate Jenn, Jennifer from church, and the list goes on. Over the years, the relationships with the various people we have met grew or wains, and I learned that some friendships/relationships are just for that time and place, while others are to last a lifetime. It does depend on you and the work that you are willing and able to put into it.
Facebook has been wonderful for me to renew connections that were lost. I was able to find and reconnect with people that I grew up with on the other end of the country, people from high school, college and work. As life has changed, we can choose who to remain connected to and at what level we want to be involved. Sometimes, life throws a curve ball and we can’t keep up due to our health, financial situation or other things, like moving, school, etc.
High School Jenn and I lost touch when I moved away. She is not one for email or any social media. Her husband used to travel for work and they both came here once. I would return to my parents and we used to sit and watch Survivor when her kids went to bed. She lost her husband unexpectedly in 2014. I was not able to be there for her at that time either. I only knew what was going on because of her sister being on Facebook.
Roommate Jenn and I met when I was living in Nova Scotia to get my masters degree. We learned that we are good friends, but should not live together. Perhaps we could do it now if we had to. She is now my best friend. We were each other’s maid of honors in our weddings. We have talked everyday for years, then we can go for a while without speaking and the relationship picks up where we left off. This is what a friendship is. We have talked frankly about everything – I mean everything; sex, religion, politics, you name it, we have likely dissected it. She lives in the middle of the country now, and I on the opposite end from where we both grew up. Throughout the past 20 years, we have worked to stay connected and supportive of each other’s struggles and journey; miscarriage, career changes, marriage, moving, and children. We joke that we will be together even when we are old and live in a nursing home, and we will be the trouble makers (still).
I met Camp Jenn when I was living in Nova Scotia to get my masters degree. One summer, I worked in a camp instead of going home to my parents’ place. She was the assistant director and accountant. I was the cook. Camp Jenn is dying. She is only 46 or 47, a few years older than me. She is on the other end of the country, and I have family obligations so I cannot go to see her. I can not say good-bye in person.
If I think about it, we were not as close as I would have liked. I missed her wedding as I had moved to Winnipeg by that point. We kept in touch and the connection remained. I made sure to grab a few minutes with her when I went back East in 2017 (2 years ago) so that she could meet my hubby in person. We have shared our trials and tribulations about what life has thrown at us; health issues with self or family, job loss, the trials of child rearing, the joys of photography, new careers, new family, the list goes on.
We are both ministers. We have both worked as ministers in our respective fields but are “retired” from that for now; me to raise a family, her to look after her parents. And yet, she is dying. Most of us on Facebook land were shocked to hear that she has cancer and that the chemo didn’t work, and that now they will do pain management and palliative care. She is only in her 40s. I worked in healthcare and yet, despite the joys and pains that I saw through my 15 years in the field of spiritual care, it is hard to see (or not physically see) someone who you know/knew well die, and harder still because she is still so young.
That ASD Mom 