I’ve been trying to write something for a while now, but I’ve struggled to wrap my head around this new, painful reality. Jodi’s Celebration of Life yesterday finally gave me the nudge I needed—thank you, Mr. Freeman. I was so moved by the stories shared, the love in every word. The entire event was so thoughtfully and beautifully done. Thank you to everyone involved, especially the Freeman family, the Miller family, and Chris (+ the Western family).
My name is Megan. I met Jodi one summer—maybe 2007?—at Western, where she was working as the ROC (Residence Orientation Coordinator) and I was the SPC (Summer Projects Coordinator).
By the end of that summer, anytime we met someone new together, Jodi would jump in with her favourite origin story of our friendship. According to her, when we first met, I told her I wasn’t there to make friends—that I was going to take my summer job seriously, no time for distractions. The joke was definitely on me. That summer marked the beginning of one of the most meaningful friendships of my life.
That first summer turned into three more, plus many academic year memories and beyond. We even took an elective course together—Law—just to stay connected during the school year. It suited Jodi's criminology passion perfectly. I enjoyed it too, though it ended up being a bit more work than I expected for a “fun elective.”
Summers also meant pizza lunch on Fridays, many patio nights and golf carts during Orientation Week prep. One year, Jodi named our cart “Snappy.”
One memory I’ll never forget: Jodi and I were sent on an errand to the UCC (University Community Centre). Our summer office was in the Sydenham residence, so we had to trek up University College hill. After we completed our mission, we stopped at Tim Hortons, and that’s when Jodi introduced me to ordering an iced capp with chocolate milk. On the way back down the hill, drinks in hand, a bird decided to make its mark—right onto Jodi’s cup. She screamed and threw it in disgust. We then collapsed with laughter and had to sit on the hill to recover.
Jodi was always gently pushing me out of my comfort zones. She introduced me to Chicken Shawarma—something so simple, yet it opened me up to new things in life.
Another vivid memory: she had her dad’s convertible for a few days one summer. I remember her driving us through the Masonville area, likely on our way to lunch (ordering buffalo chicken wraps), music blasting—Katy Perry.
Being in Jodi’s life meant I also got to know Brandie, and later watched Jodi assist in planning her wedding with anticipation and excitement. And then there was Meg—her “Princess Palace” roommate. It was hard to comprehend when Meg got sick. I’ll always remember the night Jodi, Meg, Becca and I lit a lantern in Becca’s backyard, sending intentions and strength into the sky.
I remember the summer Jodi started researching Master's programs. “What about Australia?” she asked, her eyes lighting up. And just like that, the next adventure began—Bond University, and everything it brought into her life. When she returned, she started talking vaguely about “doing some work for Brent.” She downplayed the significance of this work.
As the years went on, Jodi was there for all of my milestones. On my wedding day—coincidentally the same day as a Residence Manager, Pam—Jodi was still working at Western and I knew that Pam’s wedding would be full of our Western crew and therefore way more fun for her to attend. I encouraged her to go to that one, but Jodi was determined to show up for me too. She found a way to attend my ceremony and still make it to Pam’s reception. That’s who she was: fiercely loyal, thoughtful, and a logistics genius. There’s no way my traditional ceremony was her scene, but she came anyway—to show up for me.
Jodi made everyone she encountered feel important, seen, and valued.
When Jodi got married, I was leaving my youngest for the first time. I was stressed and late (okay, very late). As I rounded the corner from the parking lot in my very impractical heels, I saw that the guests were all seated. I couldn’t possibly make a discreet entrance. I sat quietly at a patio table off to the side. A woman—maybe the wedding coordinator—urged me to hurry up and join the other guests, but I stayed put, not wanting to hold anything up. Then, Jodi appeared on her dad’s arm. The emotion hit me all at once. From my little seat on the sidelines, I recorded a short video of her walking toward Jordan. I sent it to her later, and she told me it was one of her favourite candid moments of the day.
And then came the news we were all so excited for: her pregnancy. Just like she planned—right after the wedding. Bennett, you were so deeply, fiercely wanted.
Jodi changed my life. I know that sounds dramatic—but it’s the truth. She brought so much joy, adventure, loyalty, and laughter into my world. I’m forever grateful for her friendship.
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