Sometime circa 2007, I was at an intimate fundraiser for an artist at the Pure Intent yoga studio in Kensington Market, Toronto. My partner at the time, Michelle, was volunteering at the studio, building her knowledge of the yoga world before becoming a teacher, and also building her community, which is sometimes difficult in Toronto. I was a little out of my element at the fundraiser - at the time I was teaching full time while trying to finished a never-ending PhD, desperately in need of yoga, but too stressed out to actually do it. The whole atmosphere seemed foreign - everyone calming walking around in loose fitting pants and tank-tops, gazing at the heartfelt but not-so-pro art on the walls.
Given my slight discomfort, it's no wonder that I gravitated to the beautiful woman with the bright-eyed, blond baby in her arms. I'm always drawn to the babes-in-arms, but this little guy was particularly irresistible, with his big smiles and perfectly cherubic face. I learned that his name was Lucas, and his mom, Jenna Morrison, was the co-owner of the studio. It was a fairly young venture, and they were building their place in the Market. Lucas was a relatively new addition to her life - I'm guessing somewhere around 8-months old, based on what he was eating. And it's what he was eating - or rather how he was eating it, that has stuck with me. Jenna was holding an apple, peel removed from a large section, and Lucas was gnawing away at it with his gummy little mouth. Lucas had, I am guessing, two front teeth, but he was enthusiastically scraping off bits of the apple, chewing, and bobbing his head back for more. I was fascinated by this, and a discussion of the pros and cons of feeding an 8-month old this way made up the five minutes of conversation I had with Jenna.
Today, I woke up and read in the Toronto papers that Jenna Morrison was killed Monday morning while cycling to pick up Lucas, now 5 years old, from school. She was wearing her helmet, and carrying his tiny Spiderman version on her handlebars. As she turned the corner, a truck moving in the same direction swept her under its wheels, and crushed her.
I only encountered Jenna Morrison once, for five minutes, and marveled at how progressive -- yet simple and natural -- it was to feed a baby from an actual apple, instead of mushing it up in a blender, or spooning it out of a jar. I've never forgotten that moment, and I think I've shared the story a dozen times, because I was so struck by how relaxed and confident she was with Lucas. I filed away the whole encounter in my mind, under "things to do if I ever become a Mom." And as if the loss of this vibrant woman isn't terrible enough, the reports revealed that she was pregnant when she died - due to give birth in the Spring to another baby.
I didn't know Jenna, but I wanted to write about how such a short, fleeting moment can make such a powerful imprint; how she made a lasting imprint on me. My heart goes out to her family and friends.
If you want to send your condolences or read more about Jenna, her family have set up a memorial page on Facebook.
