A Small Life

The holidays have always been a time of drama and stress in my life and this year has been no exception. Last week, my son's best friend was killed in an automobile accident on the way home from college for Christmas break. There were no drugs involved, no alcohol, just a senseless accident, in the purest sense of the word. And like all accidents, this one resulted in farther reaching repercussions than the actual event. Jacob was one of those kids who wandered through life. He was wholly unremarkable in every sense of what society deems is successful. Not greatly motivated, no big plans, not especially reliable, and overall, mediocre by most adult standards. He wasn't listed in the high school yearbook as memorable or anyone "most likely to" do anything spectacular. I don't even remember him as a classmate of Tristan's before they became friends, even though he was for many years. And yet, if you looked at the tear-stained faces at the memorial service, you would think the opposite description of this young man. Jacob indeed made an impression on these people who gathered to say goodbye. Maybe they weren't the popular crowd or the selection committee for societal upperclassmen, but plain, everyday folks; kids like Jacob, whose lives were changed and impacted by the small life of this one boy - yes, even though he was 20, he was a boy to me. But how can the loss of such a small, insignificant life affect so many? I saw it in my son's face the day of Jacob's funeral. Struggling to take it like a man, yet feeling like his arm had suddenly been separated from his body. Grief, shock, disbelief...tinged with anger at the unfairness of life and the irritation at even having to be there that day. To Tristan, Jacob was hilariously funny, fiercely loyal, caustically sarcastic, unquestioningly supportive, and always there for him...if he could remember to get up on time. They didn't always agree and they were as different as two kids could be...and yet, they recognized in each other a weird sameness which somehow complemented each other in a unique way. Tristan will never be the same for having known him, thankfully, for the better. I keep thinking about Jacob's mom - a teacher, living alone as a single mom of an only child. As great a tragedy as this was for Tristan, there are no words for her loss. Of course, I can sympathize, as a member of the same club - and at the funeral, we embraced with a knowing look, as only mothers of only children can understand. "It's not that I am lonely for you; I am mutilated. For you were a part of me." His life wasn't small to her...or to us. Peace, kiddo. Your life was bigger than you'll ever know.