I want to explain something. Maybe I’m explaining it to myself. For most of my life, my family consisted of my mother’s side, and my adoptive father’s side. While I knew of my biological father’s side…I only met them briefly when I was 18. 18 is too young to understand life and love. At the time, I was grateful to have met the people I did, but I wasn’t old enough to appreciate the details.
Throughout my life, I’ve watched a lot of people leave this earth; I almost left myself once with collapsed lungs. I’ve had a lot of struggles but nothing compared to January 3rd, 2007. That was the day when the man I loved most, didn’t wake up. Nothing seemed real. Nothing slowed down. This was different from any other hurt I had felt, deeper than any sadness. I didn’t know how to survive it…but…I did.
I’ve learned something from it. I’ve learned that I don’t care who you are, I don’t wish that agony on you – on anyone. I try to dedicate my time to help people through grief. That’s what got me through it. Just having people to talk to, having people around…is a comfort. But having people around who have been through it, though it can be painful, it also provides a hope. Seeing that life can be good again – is a promise worth fighting for.
I don’t feel sorry for myself anymore. My life is what it is. It consists of a lot of struggles, and I don’t know why. But…it is what it is, and what is important is that I make the most of it. And I enjoy it.
A few years ago, I received a call from my biological grandma. She’s always been such a sweet woman. I don’t know how she found me, but somehow she did. That summer, I booked a flight out there to see her. She was so welcoming, and while I was a little nervous, she was just…your sweet little grandma, making breakfast and looking at me just happy to see me. I made it a point to visit her again the next summer. That time….I left there with a heavy feeling in my heart. She has had such a journey in life. Every item in her lovely home has a story. Every picture, a feeling. At the time she was 85….and her memory is better than mine has ever been. I remember how grateful I felt to be a part of her life again, and how sad I felt that it took this long. I felt like I had missed out on so much…
In 2010, several circumstances prevented me from being able to visit that summer. My grandma said in her tone that made it impossible to say no to “it sure would be nice if you could come for Christmas and I wouldn’t be all alone”. Come on….how do you say no to that!?!?
So why not? In October, she informed me that that her son Jim (my uncle) and his wife Peggy had moved out there to spend the winter with her. She told me that their kids (Jimmy and Jamie) would also be there for Christmas. I have not seen Jimmy since I was 2 years old. I met Jamie once when I was 18. I love people, and I’m not shy. I was nervous though, barging in on an already existing family….how awkward.
Then….the day came when I got to Utah. Jimmy’s girlfriend, Dyanne whom I’ve never met picked me up at the airport. No nerves. We talked the entire way back – separated by a surfboard between us so we couldn’t even really see each other. I got there, and my Uncle Jim came out to greet me, next I saw Jimmy and we gave a hello hug. When I walked in, I saw the joy of my grandma’s smile, the glow in my aunt Peggy’s face….and there was Jamie, all grown up into a gorgeous woman. After our hellos they banished me to the laundry room to wrap presents, and when I came out – there it was….a family I had never known, no fears, no awkward moment, it was like I had been there all along. I keep looking at the pictures over Christmas, and thinking and remembering what a wonderful time I had. I didn’t want it to end.
The family I grew up with, I love dearly. They raised me to be the strong, independent person that I am today. I often wonder how things would have been if things had turned out differently…what if I had grown up with the California family….well….one thing is for certain I would have been loved just the same. So while some people look at my family situation and feel sorry (I myself used to) – I feel blessed.
One day while during that Christmas vacation, I started to feel kind of sad wondering about my biological dad. I didn’t know much about his life, and I felt sad that I was there with the family – with his family – and he was not there. I know that years ago he made a choice that was hard for people to understand (myself included). I pulled Uncle Jim aside and I asked him if he had been invited for Christmas, and if he thought he was happy. He told me about how there was an adjustment period at first for everyone, but the family is very accepting of everyone, and that the love never changed or ceased to exist. He said that he and Peggy do not judge anyone, and that is most definitely true. This Christmas was for my grandma and the grandkids, he said. He and Peggy just happened to be there.
The presents Jim wrapped were amazing. He used white tissue paper, and then with some thistles and weeds he found in the yard, he died them in food coloring and attached them to the presents – it was truly beautiful. He even wrapped a present for Jimmy in wire. Jimmy is so stubborn. He wouldn’t use the tins nips (who would have though one would need tin snips to get a Christmas present open), but sure as shit – he got it open. My aunt Peggy made a delicious and BEAUTIFUL pumpkin cheesecake for my birthday.
The night before I left, Uncle Jim brought down his guitar and told a beautiful story of a friend of his, and how he wrote a song in ten minutes after seeing a movie that reminded him of his friend. I took a video of the story and the song. Then Jamie and her father sang/played “Let it Be” together. It was so sweet. I had earlier mentioned how much I liked Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” (though I especially liked the Peter, Paul, and Mary version), a moment later…there he was singing it and playing guitar. I immediately sent a text message to my best friend knowing she’d understand how cool that was. Jimmy and his dad played guitar together and while Jim plays mellow, Jimmy plays harder. Uncle Jim said “I don’t know how to jam”. Maybe you had to be there – but it was great watching them. Grandma just loved the music.
Again, my heart was heavy was I left. What wonderful people. I wish I had more time with them.
On Saturday, I got the call that Jim had died. My grandma could barely spit the words out. I hung up, and sat there processing how this could have happened. I thought of Peggy, of Jimmy, of Jamie, of my grandma losing her son…I felt helpless. I still do. No one saw this coming. I looked on his facebook page, and on his blog http://earthhomegarden.blogspot.com. This man touched the lives of so many people – several whom he’d never even met. He had so many people in his life physically and virtually who believe in the same things he and Peggy do, he spoke for those who couldn’t speak, and he spoke for the earth. I’ve known a lot people, and I’ve seen a lot of loss. I’ve never seen anyone (even for just the brief time I got to “know” him) who could impact each person he met.
Every day since I heard, my heart has hurt and I wish I would have gone to the memorial yesterday. I went to sleep last night thinking of the family, I woke up this morning thinking of the family. Took the day off today. This morning I wondered “why this affecting me as much as it is – I barely met them”. It’s not a matter of how little time you spend with someone, it’s about the impact they leave in your heart. I can only imagine the impact left with those who knew him deeply. My heart pours out to all who knew and loved Jim. His life was a gift to many. In return, many will carry on his legacy. His wife, children, many brothers and sisters, will all mourn his loss, and feel that empty space. But in time, that space will be filled with the memories and love that he left them with.
I read a post that his daughter wrote to him and it had such a beautiful line “You could say one word and have a lifetime of passion behind it”. You can’t teach that. A man of compassion, you will be terribly missed, Uncle Jim, but more importantly, you were loved….as you loved.
