06/20/2026
There are people who move through a room like a quiet song you don’t realize you needed until it’s already part of you. That was Jenn.
She came in color and rhythm—music always close, laughter always ready, hands that knew how to mend what the world had worn thin. A gifted massage therapist, she carried healing in everything she did. She loved animals with an easy kindness, and people the same way—without asking them to be anything other than themselves.
If the wind could talk it would say her name softer. If grief could write poetry it would borrow her warmth and try, again and again, to get it right.
She was wild in the gentlest way. The kind that heals. The kind that runs with wolves but still stops to hold your face and remind you you matter.
Rest easy, Jenn. Your light stays with us—steady, undeniable, and forever part of who we all are.