Life is the new death cont'd

As a small boy, Jake was hit by a car and in a coma for seven years. He missed out on much of his boyhood years but it seemed to have a saving grace also. I once read our deepest impressions and beliefs are formed as children in just those years, most of which work against us all our lives. But in those seven years, Jake’s parents matured rapidly, a lot coming from the sacrifices they had to make for him. It taught them patience and from that a natural kindness. It equipped them with all the skills necessary to deal with someone like Jake.

 When Jake came out of his coma, he sat up in bed and asked the nurse what was for dinner. He spoke as though he had never missed a beat. When his parents took him home, he became a curiosity dynamo. He wanted to learn everything. Eventually that included carpentry, plumbing, philosophy, psychology, science. He couldn’t read enough or watch enough documentaries. At the age of 14 his number one interest was quantum physics. He contended that the laws of quantum physics explained way more than the physical universe. He said some day it will revolutionize psychology, religion and the way humanity sees itself. His parents encouraged all of his interests.

 Jake learned to cherish children from his parents also. In fact, he was the beneficiary of all his parents hard won maturity. That and the fact that his parents were still fairly young gave them the energy and interest to fully participate in his life.

 Consequently, Jake didn’t grow up believing in the limitations other children picked up on and adopted. He never believed he was incapable of doing anything. No quiet little nagging internal voices chipping away at his confidence. When his parents looked at him, they saw someone who should not even be here. They saw a miracle.  Consequently, they were convinced Jake could do anything he wanted. If he had ever had doubts, the way they thought of him, their certainty in his abilities would have picked him up and sailed him right over his doubts. But that never happened. They set up home schooling and turned him loose. He plunged ahead wherever his curiosity led him.  

 A few years ago, my father tried to get him to settle down and introduced him to a few women. But Uncle Jake wasn’t having anything to do with permanents and blue crimped hair. His current wife was 20 years younger than him and a knock out. I think my uncle is the new roll model for aging. Hell, he’s the new roll model for our species period.

 Jake was looked upon as irresponsible by neighbors (the few that didn’t have the money to move), some relatives, and people who had heard things about him. But everyone in our enlarging family was more responsible than anyone I knew outside of it. The people who judged him don’t recognize true responsibility. While most parents acted like bad animal trainers in raising their kids, the people of Jake’s immediate neighborhood valued their children. We weren’t a duty. They chose to be with us because it was fun. They included us in everything. They partied but they weren’t drunks and not likely to become so. More than that, they actually listened to us as though we were people. We were treated as though we mattered, we were important, we counted. We were always put first. But you couldn’t tell it because they had so much fun doing it. Jake’s neighborhood was like a oasis of sanity in the midst of a morass of confusion and anger. And I don’t just mean his immediate neighborhood.

 My own father was a late baby and he married even later, but he didn’t get the attention Jake did as his parents were older and tired from all they had gone through with Jake, who was gone by then making his way in the world. As my father grew up, he responded well to duty, to honor and will power, just not to happiness. When Jake moved to our town, I don’t know why exactly, but my father began to loosen up. Jake had a profound influence on him  He was teaching him a whole new way to live.

 And I learned too. When someone paints shades of the sun, I still see the sun in all its glory. When someone talks trash, I see a background of abuse. When someone proclaims there is no answer, I see a door through defeatism. Jake did that for me. He did that for all of us.

 I’m writing this last part many years later. Jake died today. He was 102. They had an open casket and Jake……my Uncle Jake, looked magnificent. As the people passed by his casket, in comparison, they were the ones who looked dead. Maybe he’s still rewriting new paradigms, helping to inch that line of old age and death upward even IN death. In fact, he would probably call this one - Life is the new death!