January 13, 2004S
Timisms: gaugy(gaw-gee) was hungry, va-va was bunny... we would make kind of a sucking noise with our front teeth over our lips, and Tim came up with va-va from that. He had a frog he got from the fair once, he called it Um-Green. Penglins= penguins, callapitter=catipillar, pine-noodles=pine-needles, pine-corns=pine-cones, by your hind you=behind you. I lalu FACE! We never knew what this meant: oooor, the botnot pickle! When he got the chicken pox, he called them chicken honks.
January 27, 2004
More Timisms came to my mind last week, but I did not write them down, and have forgotten now, but they will come again. Some days are so dry, some days the tears don't stop. My hardest times come when I think of the accident itself, and I wish I had been there with him. I know I could not have done anything, but I still wish it. And I would not change it at all, but I have a hard time dealing with the memories of him in the hospital. I am thinking of calling the hospital and seeing if they were able to use any of his organs, I would like to know that. (Interesting to note here on Jan 18, 2012: I know they could not use any of his organs because he had too many blood transfusions. We talked to someone about this at the hospital that night. I know that I was very forgetful and scatterbrained in the months that followed, this is proof of that. Apparently when I was writing the journal I did not remember that at all. Grief and trauma will take a toll on your mind, I know this.) Though I don't recall if anything got signed, and I think you might have to sign papers for things like that.
I was listening to Mark & Brian this morning, and thinking how much he loved that show. I wish he could have gone to one of the Christmas shows like he wanted to. I have not stopped eating, but am going to try walking more, and go easier on the eating. I had been doing so well, and I know I need to take care of myself. Hugh is finally sleeping better most nights, and his stomach upsets have calmed down some.
We went away to Palm Springs this weekend. It was nice to get away. We wanted to go to the summit of Mt. San Jacinto, but by the time we got there, there was snow. When we made plans a couple weeks ago, there was no snow. There is a log book up there to put you name in, Hugh wanted to put Tim's name in it. We did do some hiking, slogging through snow. The trails had been slightly cleared, by rangers tromping through them on snowshoes or skis I guess, but the further we went, the less easy it was. We probably hiked a little over 4 miles that day. It was a nice tram ride to the top too. I got a bit leaky once as we sat in the cafeteria enjoying hot drinks and our lunch, and thinking that Tim should have been occupying that empty chair. While we were at the top, the Game Boy Advance Dennis had brought was stolen from our room. It had been Tim's bought for his birthday last year. Plus 2 games, one was Tim's for this past Christmas, on Dennis's. I still need to call the hotel owner. We filed a police report.
Speaking of police reports, the deputy who was by to ask some questions, and said he would call us every week, has not called yet. I really hate when people say they will do something and do not follow through. And I have not heard back from the counselor at San Clemente High about meeting with Renee and her parents. I called about a yearbook from the high school, left a message, nobody has called me back. I sent a nasty letter yesterday reaming the lady who does the life stories for the Orange County Register, who never had the decency to call me back when I left 2 messages.
Last week, the cards stopped coming in the mail. Almost a month to the day that Tim died, the last card came. That was kind of hard, I looked forward everyday to hearing some words of comfort from someone new. We have gotten another few cards that have been hand delivered. Life goes on.
Oh my God, it is so hard, and this year stretching out before us is so long. I wonder some days how I will get through the days, how we will get through them. AA's creed, One Day At A Time, works well, often it is one moment, literally. Why did he have to die? Why my Tim? I would have been happy if he had to have a spleen removed, or something. Or even if he ended up in a wheelchair. I would gladly have him here with us. But I guess, though maybe God didn't have a plan for him, perhaps he took him because what laid before him was too much. He had already been through a lot in his short life, and the road was never easy for him. But he embraced it fully, and enjoyed life. Perhaps God saw what was in his future if he had survived, and thought it best to bring him home. He is certainly better there than in a vegetative state. But what nasty hand of fate turned this accident into this result? Being hit by a car going 25, or even 35 miles an hour is certainly survivable. What quirk was there, that instead of being hurt by the car, he landed on his head hard enough to do all that damage? I will never know the answers, I am sure, but will always have these questions.
A black and yellow butterfly has been on the walkway outside the past two mornings when I left for work. As I walk by and disturb it, it flits around me a bit before settling back down again in the sun. I like to think that it is Tim, coming to say Hi to me, and it makes me smile.
I spoke to a man named Ed Leard today. I have spoken with him before. His son rode the bus with Tim last year, and they became friends. His son, Alex, has a form of autism, which makes him at times socially awkward, and unacceptable to others. But Tim befriended him, and that meant a lot to Alex and his Dad. Ed is starting up a perpetual scholarship in Tim's name, the Tim Jackes Voice of an Angel music scholarship. It will be for graduating seniors who are going to continue in music education in college. What an unbelievable man this is. I cry every time I talk with him, and he cries too, for our loss for a boy he never met, for the kindness Tim showed his son. Once he has everything in place, he wants to take us out to lunch. God Bless this man. One of those every day angels.
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