One More Day

January 14

I walked out into the warm Los Angeles morning today. The lemon yellow sun was streaming clear low winter light from the perfectly blue sky. I asked our rabbi, who had come over to visit us, how can the sun be shining so brightly when we are going through such dark days. He said it is to remind us that each of us must strive to bring as much light into the world as we can.

image-5

We made it through one more day.

January 15, 2014

Today was sort of okay. In the afternoon we went over to the Ballona marsh, a fenced-in piece of habitat where an amazing assortment of birds finds refuge. Cinnamon Teal and Shovelers, American Widgeon and Ruddy Ducks. Green Winged Teal, Red Winged Blackbirds, Blue Heron, Phoebe, Allen’s Hummingbird and plenty of LGB’s (Little Grey Birds). Afterwards, we went down to the jetty for the last light. Saw a huge ochre moon rising behind the mountains as the salmon glow of the sunset faded into a smudge of rust above the deep indigo ocean. And there, poised between day and night, light and darkness, with the full yellow moon reflecting on the water of the Marina and the clumps of shorebirds huddling against the oncoming darkness, there, as the pelicans dive-bombed into the water amidst the raucous cries of the gulls, silhouetted against the slaty sky, there, in the passage of yet one more day, I looked for the spirit of my son.

January 16

Mornings are the worst for me. The thought of another day without Jake in this world makes me impossibly sad.

Alexandra: ditto. As I water the citrus groves, the sun shines … I think of Jake. Then like sweet harmonies to my ears, the birds sing Jake’s song. Heartache, and memories flow like a never-ending flood of grief. Sending Vibes of love to you & Terry Smilen Love you.

Terry: Yes. There is a split second upon waking that everything is OK. The blackness of sleep covers my grief and sadness. Then too quickly comes the following moment of awareness that Jake will not wake up and wrap his arms around me ever again. Oh yeah, then there’s the rest of the day with tidal waves of sorrow having no mercy.

I look at my Facebook cover photo of Jake, and my Facebook profile photo of Jake and me in the mountains and all the other photos of Jake and his beautiful works of art that adorn the walls of our home and my eyes fill with tears and I just keep repeating: How can this be, how can this be, how can this be, how can this be, how can this be … ?

Originally posted on Facebook January 16, 2014

Advertisements

About edcol52

The Infinite Fountain of Love and Loss flows unceasingly into the pool of memory and sorrow. I created this blog in response to the most dreadful tragedy every parent fears, the death of a child, our 24 year old son, Jake. We are now on an unimagined journey along this road of grief and recovery. If you can find some comfort within these pages, than I will have succeeded in some small measure.
This entry was posted in Friends and Family, Friends Write, Grief, Healing, Honoring Jake, Jake Colman, Memory, Past Facebook Post, Support and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s