Ten. It’s a perfect score in gymnastics. It’s a 1979 movie with Bo Derek. It’s the number of commandments. It’s also the number of years since we got the terrible phone call that shattered our lives.
Yes, 10 years ago today, our beautiful boy left this world to seek knowledge he couldn’t find here. If you have been a reader of this blog, you have followed us on our journey, perhaps you are a fellow traveler on this lonely road. I have been reviewing the entries over the past few years and found that the latest one was nearly two years ago. So what has changed in the intervening years? Lots and none at all.
What is new then? Terry and I finally made our estate plan this year and not having an heir, it was somewhat of a conundrum. To whom would we leave our estate? As you may know, in February 2014, just a few weeks after Jake died, my Mom suggested I volunteer at Venice Arts, a media arts program for young people here in Venice. I wrote about my experiences here, and here. In retrospect, I am grateful for my tenure there, it was truly a lifeline when I most needed it. We hit upon the idea of establishing a Jake Colman Scholarship Fund at Venice Arts. They celebrated their 30th anniversary at their annual Gala in November and we made the first contribution there. We will make annual donations to the fund so we can meet some of the students who receive the scholarship. Once we are both gone, a substantial portion of our estate will go to set up a self-sustaining program that will allow VA to continue helping committed students further their artistic pursuits with Jake’s help. Something both Jake and my Mom would approve of. Please feel free to make a donation to the fund here.
In October, a longtime friend put together a reunion concert for a band that was popular here in L.A. during the 70s and 80s. At the time, I would sit in and play some of the Irish tunes on the whistle. Since Jake died, I haven’t played much, but with D_____’s encouragement, I started practicing and was able to play at the concert without embarrassing myself. I was touched by the response from the band, all of whom I have known for decades. One of whom said he hoped that I would continue playing. He knew that I stopped because of Jake, He told me that I should start because of Jake. So I have learned s few new tunes and actually played with D_______ when he was down here a couple of weeks ago.
We went up north in November to restart our Thanksgiving tradition with our dear friends. We missed last year due to some medical issues, but this year, we spent a week in Sebastapol cooking, eating, drinking, visiting, laughing, playing, and enjoying the beauty and quiet of Sonoma County. It was good to be with people we have known for so long, their children and grandchildren, our surrogate family. D___ and I sat in his garden and played a few tunes. That was lovely. We may go back soon to pick up the kitchen I made for Jake and bequeathed to D___’s daughter. Their son has outgrown it and we want to pass it on to friends here whose daughter has a one-year-old son.
So, what else do I have to share after 10 years? Nothing new, really, the “none at all”. We are still plumbing the depths of this unfathomable loss. We are still gathering Mark Twain’s “details”. There is so much we have lost. The pain doesn’t go away, it just becomes manageable. Pain Management. We do not “get over” or “get through” it. We merely get used to it. And I guess this is the lesson of the years. You get used to it, mostly.
I recently ran across a meme that said it wasn’t only the loss of the person we grieve. It’s also the memories of our life before, that there will be no new memories, the conversations we can no longer have, unfulfilled plans for the future, the empty chairs at the table, life without them. We grieve all of it and more. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes, all at once. But we keep going. That’s the overarching lesson. We keep going. Humans have a nearly unlimited capacity to withstand such events. Not without immeasurable anguish or lasting effect, but we can.
I am not exactly ‘signing off’, but it appears I don’t have much more to add. If I think of something, I’ll see you back here.
I wish you all a new year of peace.