A little about me

I am a wife and mother. Part of my motherhood is grief. Our oldest son was struck by a car and killed when he was 15 1/2. To give you a little background, I came across this journal I started shortly after he died. It's been 8 years since he died. Years of ups and downs, and learning to live again. Am I defined by my son's death? In part, absolutely. A lot of what/who I am today is because of his death.  Here is how this journey began:

January 2, 2004

I am Annette, born September 2, 1960. I am 43. I married my husband, Hugh Jackes, on May 29, 1983. On May 10, 1988, our son, Timothy Malcolm Jackes was born. On October 24,1991,our son Dennis Neil Jackes was born. On December 22, 2003, our son Tim died. He was hit by a car while playing at a friend's house. It was instant, there was no pulse, etc, but paramedics and later the staff at the hospital, tried for an hour and a half to save our son's life. We knew, when we got there, that his surviving did not look likely, you watch enough ER, and you just know these things. They brought us into a room, instead of leaving us waiting in the lobby, and a nurse came and told us that they were doing CPR, and everything they could to help him. We had come from separate directions to San Clemente, to his friend's house, and drove to the hospital together in my car. I had just gotten to work at my night job, at Swan Photo Lab, not far from Stuart's house, where Tim was. They gave me a message that Tim had been hit by a car. I tried to call, but there was no answer at our home, and I could not find Stuart's number. Hugh and Dennis were getting ready to go out and take the dog for a long walk. We met in front of Stuart's house, and drove from there to San Clemente Hospital.

A pastor from the church where the boys meet with their Boy Scout troop happened to live in the neighborhood, and when he saw the scene, came to the hospital to offer his support. There was also a volunteer from Trauma Intervention, and a chaplain from the Sheriff's Dept. And nurses and Dr's giving us support, and helping Tim. I hope someday I can forget the way he looked there. He was so, so cold. His eyes were open, but sightless. We were there yelling at him to keep fighting, at one point they got a faint pulse, but it did not last. They did not know where he was bleeding from, but it was in the head somewhere, there was no damage from the neck down. There was so much blood. There was a chest tube in, there was a tube in his nose, suctioning out the blood, his mouth was all bloody looking. But I mostly remember how cold and hard he was, even before they finally admitted defeat. Hugh sobbed and moaned for a long time over Tim's body, it broke my heart, and I wanted to comfort him, but I thought Dennis could hear him too, and I thought I should be with him. I kissed my darling son, I held his cold hand, and kissed his forehead, his cheek, and I cried on him. My kisses did not help, he was already with God. I told him goodbye, and I told him I love him. And I said, "I lalu face". He had said that to us a long time ago, as a toddler

I felt guilty about calling my sister Carol, but I knew we needed more support then we could give each other. I first called her to get prayers going for Tim, while he was still fighting, then I had to call her back with the worst possible news, Tim's favorite Aunt Carol. She had already called the others, and they were calling the hospital off and on, and were just as heartbroken. We left Hugh's truck at the scene, and went home. On our way out, Dennis stopped in front of Tim's room(he had been emotionally unable to go in), and gave Tim a long, long Scout Salute. It was the most bittersweet moment I had ever witnessed. It made me proud of and sad for Dennis. I called a friend of ours, former neighbor, Addie Mendez, while we were on the way home. They came right over. I can't remember now if I called Kim Johnson that night or not. I think I did, maybe Kim, Monte and Charlie came over too. It was just unreal. I may have called my friend Jane as well, I just can't remember.

 

The next day we made phone calls, giving people the bad news, and tried to decide what to do. We finally reached Fr. Scarlett, from our new church. My friend Jane came over, as did the Johnson's again, and Tim's Godparents, Rob & Diana Dreibelbis, and Fr. Scarlett. The Johnsons brought us some food for the freezer, and a Christmas ham, and   some other stuff. Fr. Scarlett was there for 3-4 hours. Jane brought my favorite drink fixings, 7 & 7, and she made us some soup. I managed to choke some down. Joshua Leish is Dennis's best friend, and his Mom Laurie came and picked up Dennis Tuesday afternoon, treated him to junk food, movies, candy, the Olive Garden. He had a great time, and we will always be grateful to Laurie and Joshua for giving Dennis that time. Dennis came home with a stuffed animal, a cat he named Tim. I felt so alone and aimless when everyone left, we didn't know what to do with each other.  On Monday night, when I did sleep, I had a dream. I dreamt that my Mom, Tim's Grandma Craddock, brought Tim home from the hospital, and he was fine. The back of his head was shaved, in one large spot, but there was no noticeable damage. He wanted to open his Christmas presents right away, and we let him.

Christmas Eve was the most surrealy awful day of our life. We brought Tim's Scout Uniform, minus his sash, to the Mortuary, McCormick & Sons. We also brought Tim's Hug Bear, his lucky die, and some acorns from Grandma Craddock's yard. All these things were to be cremated with him. We found out yesterday too that his personal belongings were picked up with his body from the morgue(when it is not a natural death, they have to do an autopsy), and those things were cremated as well, watch, glasses, and the clothes he was wearing. I had seen his sneakers in the hospital, there were some rubber gloves in one of them. And then we had to go and find something for his ashes. So while people were happily buying last minute gifts for Christmas, we were buying a nice box for the remains of our son and brother. We went and got some lunch first, and the food I ate was fighting to come back up, but I managed to win the battle. My stomach was not very settled for several days. That evening, on our way to a Christmas Eve service at our church, St. Matthew's Anglican Catholic Church in Newport Beach, we brought the box by to McCormick's.  The service was lovely, and then we came home. There might have been people over that night too, I am not sure.

The Johnsons picked up Hugh's truck for him on the morning of the 24th. Hugh was unable to go back to the scene, he said he had seen a huge puddle of blood there, and a couple of blankets that were covered in blood. So many angels taking care of us. Oh yes, the Laws, Tim's friends, came over, were waiting for us when we got home from our Christmas eve service. Stuart, his sister Camille, and mother Janet. Poor Stuart was very distraught, they were good friends and it was a horrible thing to witness. They brought us gifts, cards, flowers, and money from them and their neighborhood. A mother/daughter real estate team started up a benevolent account in Tim's name, to help us cover expenses, and just an outpouring of kindness toward us, from total strangers. Also our neighbors behind us came over that night, with a still warm cake and a nice card. I was talking to my brother Dave earlier in the afternoon, and forgot I was supposed to put in a frozen lasagne so we could eat before the Christmas Eve service. Well, as I was trying to figure out what to do about that, my friend Jamie came over with something already hot for us, a delicious sausage, apple and potato bake, which went quite well for breakfast a few days later as well. She brought Dennis a pepperoni and sausage pizza as well.

 

Christmas was harder still, though we tried to keep things happy and jolly for Dennis. He had a good day, considering. He got to open Tim's things, and some he kept, others Hugh or someone else took. He gave the gifts he had for Tim to Stuart the night before, that was a sweet and thoughtful gesture. He is quite the boy. Rosemary came over with Hugh's mom, but Mom could not stay, she was too upset, would not even stay for some coffee. We worried about her being alone in her room at the home where she lives, but she insisted on going home. We figured then it was best not to bring her to the memorial service for Tim. Dave and Addie Mendez went and got my sister Carol at Long Beach airport that afternoon, so she was home for dinner with us. Nathan stayed and played with Dennis

The day after Christmas, we went out for some items we needed. Dennis needed scout pants, he wanted to wear his uniform for the service. And I wanted to get some proud parent ribbons, and the pins to go with them. Artie Muratore, whom we have known since Cub Scouts, though he was in different Pack, runs the Scout Shop now, he would not let us pay for a thing. Another angel. Then we went to get new shoes for Hugh and Dennis, and a dress for myself. Carol helped me pick out a nice skirt and top, and she hemmed everything for us, plus sewed the merit badges on the sashes that Hugh had not yet done. Carol also paid for my skirt and top. Steve got in that evening, it was a good thing Carol went with Hugh, I had him coming on the wrong airline. I was thinking he worked for American Airlines, he works for US Airlines.  Brian Leish, Joshua's Dad, picked up Dennis and he went to their house to celebrate the last day of Hannukah with them. When he brought him home, he had some chocolates and cookies for us, and Dennis had a couple of Hannukah gifts. Again, we will always be grateful to them as well.