Raisins and Giggles - in memory of my brother Jake

It was Labor Day in Indiana and the entire family was at our house...My grandma and grandpa were in the living room talking about the apples that were growing in their front yard, my aunt and uncle were in the dining room talking to my dad about the latest car he was trying to restore, and I was in the kitchen with my mom because I was starving and the mashed potatoes smelled heavenly. My sister and my brother were out riding their bikes trying to get all their restless energy out before lunch - then the phone rang....

I was the closest one to the phone so I answered instinctively as any teenage girl would do. My sister was on the other end in hysterics. "Jake has been hit by a car.." was all she kept repeating. "What?" My mind was racing, "Tara, calm down," was my response and then I saw my mom drop what she was doing in the kitchen and run out of the house - it was as if there was this maternal instinct and my mom KNEW something was wrong.

Today is September 7th, 2010. Twenty - three years ago today my younger brother Jake was killed in a drunk driving accident. I was 14 years old, my younger sister was 11, Troy was 4 months old and Jake was only 9. He was riding his bike with my sister and two other neighbor kids and he was hit and killed instantly. The driver had a blood alchohol level of twice the legal limit. That day is forever etched into my memory and the memory of my family.

Usually on this day I am surrounded by my family and friends. We sometimes will speak of the incident that changed our lives, but even if we don't, we are there for each other. Today, as I am millions of miles away from my family, at a new school, in a new city, I find myself wanting to reflect and wanting to REMEMBER him.

Jake was a vibrant, blonde-haired, blue eyed boy who would smile by placing his tongue on his upper teeth. Jake loved to eat raisins - they were a part of almost every meal that he had. There was a special drawer at my grandma and granpa's house that was designated just for Jake's raisins - for as far back as I can remember - I never saw that drawer empty. Jake also did not have a laugh, Jake only giggled. It wasn't a girlish giggle, it was this sound that came from pure and unadultered happiness.

Jake was this ray of sunshine that only wanted to fish with my dad, cuddle with my mom and play softball or basketball with his older sisters.

Jake loved to go camping and when we were younger we owned a trailer that we would pack up and haul to the nearest campsite. For an entrie weekend we would hike on trails, make smores by the campfire and sleep under the stars in our sleeping bags. Jake loved it so much that there were times that he wanted to go camping, but it was a Tuesday and my mom would explain that we can't go camping in the middle of the week. One time, on a school night, my mom set up our little pup tent in the back yard and Jake, my sister and I packed some cookies, a flashlight and our pillows and relished our little adventure. We had all of the ambiance of camping, but we also knew that mom and dad were inside the house only four feet away. :)

Many times over the past 23 years I have asked God, "WHY?" WHY was his life cut short, WHY was I not able to have more time with him, WHY did it destroy my family as much as it did, WHY him, not me, WHY does it still hurt? Even after all this time, there is no answer. I can question, I can live in the land of "what if.." and I can be angry at God for this tragedy that happened to my family....OR, I can understand that I DON'T have all the answers NOR do I have to have all the answers. I know that God does not give us more than we can handle and even though there were times that I was convinced that I couldn't handle this loss, God knew better.

People grieve in different ways - Most of my family does not talk about Jake and the life that we had with him for those short years, but I am different...

I love to talk about my younger brother, I love to remember funny times or the nights spent camping in the back yard, I love to write about my brother and talk to my friends about the way he was curious or the way he adored my father and mother. My grief is best spent by remembering my brother through words, thoughts and writing - this will never change. So, the next time you are around me during the month of September, please ask about my brother...and then sit with me and grab a cup of coffee because I can talk about him for hours.