At the Loss of a Wilson Sister

Most of you have followed me this past year as I have been working to reverse the decision to make Wilson College, an historical women's college in Chambersburg, PA, into a ho-hum co-ed school in a mecca of first-class co-ed institutions. Some of you have been sympathetic to the cause, others just roll their eyes and ask why or say "oh that's Beth."

I did not graduate from Wilson, but my closest friend Sharon was my roommate at Wilson and we have traveled many roads together. In the 1980s after the college was almost closed, I became active with activities on campus and was elected to the alumnae board. It was while I was on the board that I came into my own as a strong adult woman, and I became a full member of the Wilson Community accepted as an equal.

As my life took a couple of twists and turns (divorce, remarriage, cancer, major surgery), my connection with Wilson became more typical of an alumna--reunions and annual giving. I fell away from the Baltimore Wilson Club where I had many friends.

Last fall when the first rumors of financial crisis and major changes started floating around about Wilson, I reengaged. In this new world of social media, I became part of a whole new community of Wilson Sisters. I can’t count the number of women who are my friends, although only a few of us have met in person.

Via FaceBook, we have learned about each other, learned to care about each other, pray for each other, commiserate with each other, laugh, tell stories, and work together for our Wilson. And occasionally, we are called to mourn with each other.

Today is a day of mourning. A young woman from the class of 2000--Andrew's age--died very suddenly yesterday. Jen and I have been FB friends for almost a year; I got to meet her and her husband last year at reunion at Wilson. It was a brief encounter in the college bookstore when Erin introduced me. It took me a moment to realize that this was that "Jen", but I was thrilled to meet her.

We each have our own memories of Jen. I think the luckiest women are those who have known her since her Wilson days. But I know I too am blessed by knowing her.

Last spring, Jen surprised us all by getting a unique Wilson tattoo. Talk about gutsy and loyal.

I am deeply sorrowed by Jen's death; there is a huge hole in the universe where this young woman once walked, played, and loved. (There is also a huge lump in the bottom of my stomach.)

I originally joined FB because my kids were on FB. I never imagined that "social media" could be a catalyst in forming new, deep friendships. But today as I mourn Jen, I am so grateful to be blessed with such a wide family of friends and sisters brought together by FB.

Jen Moyer-Damian, I miss you.