Saudade

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

Saudade (European Portuguese: [sɐwˈðaðɨ], Brazilian Portuguese: [sawˈdadi] or [sawˈdadʒi], Galician: [sawˈðaðe]; plural saudades)[1] is a Portuguese and Galician word that has no direct translation in English. It describes a deep emotional state of nostalgic or deeply melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing will never return.[2] A stronger form of saudade may be felt towards people and things whose whereabouts are unknown, such as a lost lover, or a family member who has gone missing.

Saudade was once described as “the love that remains” after someone is gone. Saudade is the recollection of feelings, experiences, places or events that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, which now triggers the senses and makes one live again. It can be described as an emptiness, like someone (e.g., one’s children, parents, sibling, grandparents, friends, pets) or something (e.g., places, things one used to do in childhood, or other activities performed in the past) that should be there in a particular moment is missing, and the individual feels this absence. It brings sad and happy feelings all together, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling.

I have been going to shul every morning to say kaddish for Jake. I now wear Jake’s tallit, and when I put it on, I wrap myself in his spirit. And the crazy thing is, there might still be some remnant of his physical being in this fringed rectangle of wool; maybe some skin cells trapped in the weave, some of his dried perspiration, some small trace of his DNA that I can hold close, that touches my own skin. It is the same thing with his tefillin that I wear. They once touched him, now they lie against my arm and upon my head. The suck-ey thing is that the son is supposed to inherit his father’s tallit and tefillin, not the other way around.

Originally posted on Facebook January 16, 2014

Posted in Coping, Grief, Healing, Memory, Past Facebook Post | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

One More Day

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

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

Posted in Friends and Family, Friends Write, Grief, Healing, Honoring Jake, Jake Colman, Memory, Past Facebook Post, Support | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Arrangements

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

January 13

Bittersweet. Today we went to “arrange” for Jake’s marker stone. Looking at fonts, finishes, stones, working out the text, like we were designing some ghastly business card. Just another surreal episode in this Bizzaro world we now inhabit. Rachel, our guide through this labyrinth of sorrow was so caring and compassionate, she started crying right away. Waterworks all around. A dear friend and Terry’s sister accompanied us for support, we couldn’t be doing this without the help of our friends and family. That dreadful task finished, we walked out into the warm afternoon sunshine, blinking against the brightness. Wondering how in the world everything could look so normal.

Later, we gathered for a family celebration of birthdays. Not too much reminiscing, this night was for the birthday girls, but there were moments where Jake was sorely missed. He loved this restaurant, and I told a brief recollection of having a photo of the Jetsons autographed by Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera for the Jacob of many, many years ago. I still have that photo. Somehow I managed to tell the story without breaking down. I guess that is progress. It is so odd how we can co-exist with sadness and laughter. As if we have banished our sorrow, for just a moment, to some dark chamber so we can pretend a semblance of normality. But it is always hiding just below the surface. How do we do that?

Now later in the evening, collecting my thoughts, flat and weary. All in all, an exhausting day. Another day that we have survived.

Originally posted on Facebook January 13, 2014

Posted in Ceremony, Friends and Family, Grief, Honoring Jake, Jake's Spirit, Memory, Past Facebook Post, Sadness, Support, Tragedy | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Pizza Quest

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

January 12

Today was by turns a bit better and just as bad. We went for coffee along Abbot Kinney, just to get out. It is difficult to walk around in this new world, but necessary. The coffee wasn’t very good, and afterwards we strolled along the street sampling a couple of different pizzas. Somehow, we are always on one food quest or another. Gjelina pizza is pretty good, as it turns out.

Then down to the sea for a walk along the jetty. Breathing in the brisk ocean smell. The salt air clears out the cobwebs a bit, the infinite expanse of ocean and sky revives the spirit momentarily. The clockwork sanderlings chased the residue of the waves, poking their tiny bills into the wet sand looking for dinner. The soft hiss as the water slid to and fro over the shore. He was a water boy. At home on the water, in the water and under the water. Jake’s memory always hovering within our consciousness. So many good times at the beach. Building the Tiki Hut in Hawaii, digging in the sand on both coasts, splashing and laughing in the warm Pacific waves. So many good times. There should have been so many more.

Back home for a quiet dinner, everything going pretty smoothly and suddenly out of the blue, the thunderbolt of sadness struck. The fountain welling up inside until it came pouring out. It is the seemingly most insignificant thing that triggers it. In this case talking about dipping cookies in chocolate. It was Jake that taught Terry how to properly temper chocolate for dipping, so it retains its proper sheen and texture. We no longer have his counsel in this and so many other matters.

It is these little things we miss the most. The million and one moments that make up our loved ones connection to us. Jake will never make that promised seafood soup he learned in Italy. Never make us waffles again. Never share a laugh, call me Pops, wisecrack with that wicked sense of humor I miss so dreadfully now.

It really isn’t enough to relive those memories. I want him here, to hold him, to kiss him, to put my hands on his head and bless him as I did every time we parted. But the memories are all we have now. It will just have to do.

Originally posted on Facebook January 12, 2014

Posted in Coping, Daily Ramblings, Food, Friends and Family, Grief, Healing, Jake Colman, Jake's Spirit, Memory, Past Facebook Post, Sadness | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Porch Light

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

January 10

Jakey Jake. We’ll leave the light on for you.

1511192_10151869515067951_416327573_n

A very tough day. It started off innocently enough with my early morning cry, a trip to shul to say kaddish and back home. In the afternoon, things shifted into profound sadness and emptiness. It is like a wound that starts to heal. A soft scab forms over the gash, and you think it will be okay. Then something, a word, a thought, a glance, rips the scab away and the hurt is just as painful as when first cut. “The first cut is the deepest”, they say, and this is the first cut over and over again. Shabbat will always be difficult, I could barely get through the blessings. We are commanded to be happy and joyous on Shabbat. How in the hell do we do that now? We did have some laughter during dinner, as if we were in some strange limbo for a moment, but always lurking in the shadows is the agonizing emptiness. And now, the house is quiet. I went outside to look at the star. And the tears flowed again. How many tears will I shed? An ocean of them, I am sure. Good night to my dear friends near and far. I wish you all a Shabbat of peace.

January 11

Anger and sorrow, frustration and satisfaction, happiness and anxiety cannot exist simultaneously, but rather by turns, first one then the other flicks on and off. The rage is supplanted by heartache, pain by flashes of joy and remembrance, anxiety by acceptance. But somehow, all are contained within me right now, and I never know which will come to the fore at any given moment.

Saturday night. Two weeks. The individual days drag on interminably, but the time has slipped by so quickly. How is that? Life is like that. Day by day, week by week, and suddenly years have come and gone. Sitting with family and friends, remembering, trading stories, laughing for a moment, things seemingly normal for a brief time. Holding the truth at arm’s length for a few hours. Groping to forge the new normal. We have a long way to go with that, but tonight we got a glimpse of what it may look like.

Originally posted on Facebook January 11, 2014

Posted in Grief, Honoring Jake, Jake's Spirit, Memory, Past Facebook Post, Sadness, Tragedy, Visions | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Apathy

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

January 8, 2014

Apathy has set in. Yesterday was flat and listless, today bodes to be more of the same. I have to force myself to do the simplest of tasks, make a cup of tea, cut up an orange. I know in my head this will pass too, but for now, to my heart it all seems so pointless. All of you have offered so many wonderful and touching words of encouragement, consolation, hope and cheer. For that we are deeply grateful. It is helping, this is just a phase.

Today was a little better. It seemed a bit less bleak. The clouds lifted in the afternoon, and the thin, cold winter sunlight streaked across the world. We took my brother-in-law to the airport, did a tiny bit of shopping and had dinner with Terry’s sisters and mother. I managed to hold the sadness at bay most of the day until I went out this evening and saw the brightest star glittering in the eastern sky. The star I have given everyone to remind them of Jake. Sirius. Easy to find even in the bright city-lit sky. A few tears for what might have been and what will never be. They dried cold upon my cheeks, and I went inside to feel the warmth of family. Tomorrow will be better still. Good night all, sweet friends.

January 9

Okay. today was a little better for me. We went to the Hammer museum and looked at some wonderful paintings. But the pleasure was tinged with longing. “Jake would dig this”, I thought as I admired a Van Gogh or the pretty painting of the French seashore. Then onto a knish quest along Pico Boulevard in the “hood”. Looking for the perfect square New York street style knish. Not to be found. Had some pretty good Brooklyn pizza and again, as we critiqued it, “Jake should be here to help us dissect this”. “He would love this salami.” “Would have something to say about the bourekas.” It was good to get out, to walk around, shop from store to store, but always, lurking in the shadows is that pool of melancholy. And sometimes, it just hits me like a sledgehammer and brings me to my knees.

Originally posted on Facebook January 9, 2014

Posted in Coping, Grief, Jake's Spirit, Memory, Past Facebook Post, Sadness, Tragedy | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dreams

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

January 6, 2013

I have had dreams of restaurants every night this past few days. Last night, the dream included the submarine ride at Disneyland. Jake loved eating out and at one time wanted to build his own submarine. Go figure.

Today was the last day of shiva. We got up, walked around the house outside and went to the cemetery to say kaddish at the freshly sodded grave of my darling son. Tears flowed all around as we said one more goodbye. The very earth held its breath, there was not a rustle of leaf nor blade of grass. The air was perfectly still. Later we went for a walk along the jetty by the ocean. The sun shone, the world still turned. People played with their dogs, boys kissed their girlfriends, mothers pushed their children in strollers. And I wondered, how could all these people not know what had just happened. Didn’t they know what was now missing from the world? How could they be happy when my happiness has been stolen forever? I might laugh again, forget for a moment, but I will never have true joy again. But I will live, we will live for as long as we do. We will find a new way to be, life always tempered by sadness and longing. But we will live.

Right now, the only peace I can get is in sleep.

January 7, 2013

Today dawned grey and still. My dreams were random and scattered, vague and misty. I still expect to get a text from Jake, a call, a knock at the door, but with less certainty than a week ago. We survived another day. And will survive this one. And the next. And the days will merge into weeks, the weeks into months, and so on. But will the pain merge into happiness? The sorrow into joy? We shall see, but I think not.

Rafi: Unfortunately dear Ed , I am of a country in which too many have lost their sons yet the formula for coping with such loss is not in existence nor is the ability for one to distribute his pain and share it with his willing friends. i can only hope that time will turn your wound into a scar – a scar that will give you some great memories , some reminders of unconditional love – a mixture of feelings that will make life worth living still. i am always here for u and when one day , when they will invent that formula, I’ll be on line to help you share the pain.

This from my friend, Bob:

Jake is there, and you can talk to him anytime you want. He’d talk to you too but hey, he’s busy. On a new adventure. When he gets bored he’ll reconnect.

Originally posted on Facebook January 6, 2014

Posted in Food, Grief, Jake's Spirit, Memory, Past Facebook Post, Sadness, Tragedy, Visions | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

On the Road

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

rattlesnakeranch

This photo, one of the last taken of Jake just a few days before his death, is so poignant for me. He is on the road, looking toward an unknown destination. He is in the light, but heading into the shadows. He is turned away, I cannot see his face. Where are you going, Jakey Jake? We need you here. Please come back.

Last night, while we were saying kaddish surrounded by our friends and families, I had a vision of Jake lying on our blue couch where he lay many times watching TV. One of our guests, had the exact same vision of him in the same spot, in repose, comfortable and at rest. I dreamt about him early this morning, for the first time ever. He was much younger, around 12 or 13, the leader of a little squad of 3 other boys younger than him. Carefree and laughing, he was always a leader.

Posted in Grief, Past Facebook Post, Photography, Sadness, Tragedy, Visions | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

First Shabbat

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

January 3, 2014

We had our first Shabbat dinner since that terrible day. Laughter and tears as we shared memories. Speaking of Jake in the present rather than the past helped and hurt both at the same time. Helped because we can’t yet fathom he not still with us, hurt because we know we will never see him again.

This is from Lauren:

Who needs you more than we do, Jake? You make us pay attention to details. You are a mirror of our joy and craziness (which can be joy, too!). Even the Flavors miss you.

Is that Jake’s spirit in the little flock of white crowned sparrows that just flitted through our yard? Or is it jut a bunch of birds?

Anne: You just don’t know, and that’s the beauty and the terror of it. In several mythologies across the world, birds act as vessels for souls.

Dee:  When my godfather was eulogized this past spring, the priest expressed the following: Just as we wait impatiently to see our child for the first time, when we lose someone, we wait impatiently to see them again. Before we are born, we exist, but not yet of this world; there exists a barrier through which our parents can feel us pressing. After a loved one passes and are no longer of this world, a different sort of barrier exists; and though it is a spiritual rather than physical barrier, we can just as easily and frequently feel them pressing against it. Just as it was before birth, it is after death: the sure and certain knowledge that they are still there, listening, hearing, loving; and the sure and certain knowledge that one day we will see them again. The hard part is the waiting. Until then, we must learn how to breathe. This brought me great comfort, and I hope it brings the same to you and Terry. So yes — I do believe that Jake’s spirit is there with you, in a flock of birds or in the way the wind blows across your skin. He is there.

It has been a week since we received the terrible news. Only 7 days yet it seems a lifetime ago. And in fact, a week ago, I was living a very different life. We are in a whirlwind of emotions. The caring and sharing of our beloved friends and family help hold some of those emotions at bay for a moment, but our lives going forward will be completely different than those of just a few days ago. The world will never be the same for us, and now we have to learn how to live in this grayer, darker world.

Saturday, January 4, 2014. 10:00 AM

Exactly one week ago, right about this time of day, our beloved son, Jake slipped quietly away from us. What shall we do without him?

Last night our home was once again filled with the warmth of friends and family. It is as if each person is trying to take a tiny bit of our sorrow away from us, and for this we are deeply grateful. But there is an unending fountain of sorrow within me that constantly replenishes this bottomless pool of longing. Perhaps one day we will be able to slow the flow, but the pool will never be empty.

 Originally posted on Facebook January 4, 2014

Posted in Ceremony, Coping, Friends and Family, Grief, Honoring Jake, Jake's Spirit, Past Facebook Post, Sadness, Tragedy | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

January Sunrise

Posted on January 21, 2014 by edcol52

January 2, 2014

Today I looked out my window in the morning and saw Jake in the golden sunrise in the top of his redwood tree, in a miraculous flock of birds that swept through our yard this afternoon, in the brightest star in the sky, Sirius, flashing blue, red, white, blue, white, red, and in the laughter and love of the people that filled our house this evening. Thank you everyone, friends, family, and all the people who have posted here. Your love is what is keeping us going right now. We are truly blessed to have all of you in our lives.

To everyone who attended Jake’s funeral on Tuesday. We are overwhelmed and humbled by your outpouring of love and support. We only regret that we couldn’t spend a moment with each and every one of you. There were so many. Just know that we are so grateful for your presence, and please find time now and then to stay in touch with us, somehow. I know there were people there that I didn’t know well, hadn’t met before, and if we didn’t get a chance to share a word or a hug with you, please let us know who you are and that you were there.

To all of Jake’s Friends. Know that our door is always open for you. There is always a meal to be shared, a word to be spoken, a laugh to be had. Come by and share your memories of Jake whenever you need. He loved all of you, and so do we. You are all part of his light. Please share this.

Okay, yeah. I know that we are supposed to keep our loved one’s spirit alive in our hearts, that he doesn’t really die as long as we remember him, we’re supposed to bring light into the world, yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah. Bullshit. You can’t hug a spirit, and you can’t share a pastrami sandwich with a memory. Goddammit, I want him back.

Originally posted on Facebook January 2, 2014

Posted in Past Facebook Post | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment