FOR REASONS I WILL ATTEMPT TO EXPLAIN, I am deeply torn about what I will write on this day, five days before Christmas, that rich day of joy and celebration.
It is a day with meaning extending far beyond its wonderful family gatherings and exchanges of gifts. It is a time for our fullest expressions of caring and love; for a reach beyond ourselves.
I am torn because just a week ago, my son died.
It was all fast and unexpected and I am, of course, still in shock. However, I have also had time to consider what it would even be possible for me to write that might have significance to others. I am going to attempt that first.
I begin by excerpting from a letter I wrote to my son three weeks ago, about an event that occurred 47 years earlier. He was in early high school at the time, and a member of his junior varsity basketball team. It follows:
“I have, long ago, written to you about my feelings about the basketball situation at Greenville, but I want to live it with you again. That was such an unusual experience. First my own rush of pleasure when the coach told me he was going to move you up to the varsity for the tournament as it unfolded; the goal of every competitive athlete! You refused the honor, bewildering the coach (!) and your father. Then, afterward you explained to me your reasons and I understood that I had really overlooked what was of considerably greater importance: your feelings of responsibility to the teammates who you believed would be lost without you. That experience was one that filled me afterward with a very clear sense of the shallowness of my own initial reactions, but far more importantly with a deep feeling of pride in my son. God I did feel such pride.”
And that — along with my pain — is my feeling today. He continued to be that unique person: a man of fierce integrity; an individual who marched to his own personal drummer.
Together with the pain and feeling of profound loss, I have the saving grace of my sense of the effect of the life of my son upon the lives of all those he touched. He was a passionate environmentalist who became a supervisor with the California Energy Commission. He was deeply valued by his staff for his personal thoughtfulness. In addition to his two children, he acquired a family including five stepchildren who loved and respected him for who he was and for what he gave. And he was a fiddler — more vigorous than gifted, but a delight in our gatherings!
For those surrounded by family, mothers and fathers with their children, grandparents perhaps, I resonate to your pleasure in each other; to your anticipation of the excitement of Christmas morning and the giving and receiving of gifts; to that marvelous sense of love and belonging. And I surely do not want in any way to have my words reduce your joy or your pleasure in that wonderful experience. It is precious and it must be cherished.
For those who have recently lost loved ones, or whose dearest persons are in pain and suffering, I feel with you that deep sense of loss, and that overwhelming weight of helpless anxiety. I hope for you the balm of loving family and friends.
At these moments of travail, we are blessed or victimized by fate; human beings tied to each other by bonds of love, of concern, of shared pain, or human beings alone, adrift in a sea of pain. Far too often it is the latter.
I am this mixture of emotion; this confusion of pride and pain, this deep, tearing sense of loss combined with the realization of how privileged I have been to have had such a son. But I am not alone. I am the grandfather of wonderful children of that son whose lives have been enriched by his presence, who give me joy by their existence and who share with me that pain.
There are others in our community with loved ones recently lost; with fathers and mothers, wives, husbands, sons and daughters in hospital or care, hurt and hurting. And there are those who suffer alone. Let them be in our thoughts today and on Christmas Day. And where and when we can touch and comfort, let us reach out to the lonely, the hurt, the devastated in whatever ways we can create.
The joy and rich sense of satisfaction of happy, productive lives; the pain and deep sense of sudden or drawn-out loss; the unexpected tragedies — all of these are present in our community; all integral elements of our existence on this Earth, in this unique place, together.
On this day, on Christmas Day and on all days, we are a community; let it be a community of caring that extends beyond our daily differences and the boundaries of our confined existence. I believe it does, however gracefully or awkwardly, smoothly or haltingly, continuously reach for that, and it fills me with deep satisfaction to be a member of such a community — of Benicia.
I wish a rich and love-filled Christmas to each and every one of you. And yes, I assuredly do include all of those who stubbornly refuse to accept my weekly versions of political and social reality!
Jerome Page is a Benicia resident.
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Jerry; I am sorry for such a close personal loss in your family. These life transitions are never easy, no matter what the age and situation. You are a very caring and comapssionate man and bring a lot of “heart and intellect” to our community. I treasure you as a friend and man of vision. Harvey
So sorry to hear about your loss, Jerome. I hope writing about it proves cathartic. Peace.
My deepest sympathy to you and your family on the loss of your son, Mr. Page. Love and peace be with you.
Dear Jerome: So, so, sorry to hear. We lost our two daughters, Michelle and Cathy, ages 40 and 44, 6 and 2 years ago, to an aggressive cancer and Crohn’s Disease. I know your River of Grief is hellacious as ours was and continues to be. Bless him, you, and your family this season and always. Peter Bray
This isn’t about you Peter.
Danny,
Peter’s words of empathy were not offered in any self-serving manner. It is sad that you do not recognize that, though I am confident that others did.
Danny:
Sometimes the river of grief can only be understood by compassion from others who have travelled it equally. I’ve read many of your postings here, I hope you find some tolerance for others before you post again. Peter Bray
Jerry, A very beautiful tribute. It is quite amazing that at a point such as this you are able to muster such eloquent words.
Mr. Page,
I extend to you my sincere condolences on the passing of your son.
There is, or should always, be a natural transition in life where the torch is passed from one generation to the next. There exists few things more tragic than when the appropriate passing of the torch from elder generation to junior is disrupted.
Unfortunately as one’s life extends further and further in time, the probability of that occurrence increases, though this does not make such a passing any easier.
Words are never adequate at such times as this, but I know you will find solace in the fond memories that you will treasure for many more years.
I always read and enjoy your articles, Jerome.
This one took me my storm. What a loss for you, your family and your sons family!
That you could summon the strength to speak to the sort of person he was is an amazing tribute to him and an extraordinary show of your strength.
I will think of this story for a long time to come, and I will send you my deep thoughts of joy for the life you shared with your son and your dignity when you lost him.
Thank you so much for sharing this part of your life with your readers.
Judy Goldsmith
Dear Jerome,
My thoughts are with you and your ‘Loved Ones’ at this time of distress. While I have no wish to detract from the pain and emotions you are feeling at this time, I am personally aware of how such an event can impact a family, especially during the ‘Holiday Season’.
Such losses occur due to a variety of causes. Some are sudden and unforeseen, be it a disease or tragic accident, be it murder or be it suicide. I am familiar with the later. The emotional havoc created by such an event can change your perspective for the remainder of your life.
It seems that the ‘Human Psyche’ must make its own determination as to how to handle such an event.
We each deal with such situations as best we can sans knowledge that the effect will subside over time.
Despite our disagreements in the past over various issues, may I humbly offer my condolences to you and your family for your loss at this time and may you unite with each other to garner the mutual support needed to sustain each other through your loss.
Sincerely,
Steven Harley
Mr. Page, my most sincere condolences. You have many in the Benicia community who respect and honor you. God bless this holiday season. I hope you find peace.
My deepest sympathies to you and your family.
“On this day, on Christmas Day and on all days, we are a community; let it be a community of caring that extends beyond our daily differences and the boundaries of our confined existence. I believe it does, however gracefully or awkwardly, smoothly or haltingly, continuously reach for that, and it fills me with deep satisfaction to be a member of such a community — of Benicia.
I wish a rich and love-filled Christmas to each and every one of you.”
Your words reflect what the best of us can be and your son’s life is, obviously, a tribute to that. I pray that the coming years bring us closer to the ideals you express so magnificently; that we strive to be a better community so that lives such as your son’s continue to inspire us. God bless you and God bless all of us.
what a strong and loving man you are …. thank you for sharing yourself with the Community
Our condolences, Mr. Page. Sad, but beautiful tribute.
My condolences to you and your family. Know that you are loved and respected by not only your family, but your community as well.
Deepest condolences, Jerome. I’ll be offering prayers for you today at Mass.
So sorry to hear of your loss Jerome. Death seems to always be difficult but we find ways to ease our view of it and we ask how old they were. For some reason, it seems more reasonable when we know they have traveled a long road, or if they were suffering and now it has ended. When we encounter sudden departures, they can be very confusing and unsettling, especially for a parent saying goodbye to a child. That is a pain that should, not be nor can I fathom it. When a loved one passed we often feel like the world should stop and take notice of this amazing person that has left this world, yet the world keeps spinning and moving forward as though nothing has changed.
I want you to know that right now, I am stopping. As soon as I finish this note, I will pray for you and your family that God’s peace and understanding will surround you and comfort you through this difficult time.