By Jackson Jarvis
There's a bit of magic in everything, and some loss to even things out.
~Lou Reed, "Magic and Loss"
When I was two and a half years old my dad died in a car accident. I don't remember very much from that time, but the things I do remember are really vivid to me. Now I am thirteen years old, and my mom and I talk about my dad a lot. She helps me keep my memories alive.
There's a bit of magic in everything, and some loss to even things out.
~Lou Reed, "Magic and Loss"
When I was two and a half years old my dad died in a car accident. I don't remember very much from that time, but the things I do remember are really vivid to me. Now I am thirteen years old, and my mom and I talk about my dad a lot. She helps me keep my memories alive.
Since I was so young when it happened, I really didn't understand the concept of death. I did not understand that my dad wasn't coming back, or that he was in heaven. I think I just thought he was on a business trip.
One day, about a week after my dad died, I was taking a bath in my mom's bathtub, and she heard me having a conversation with someone while she was picking up the clothes I had thrown on the floor. She was curious and asked who I was speaking to. I told her I was talking to my dad. Being that I wasn't even three, my mom figured that it was my way of dealing with the situation, so she asked me, "What did you talk about?" I told her that my dad came to see me and told me that he had been to visit his friend Kirk, who was his boss and also our neighbor about a mile down the road. He said that he had asked Kirk to come take me horseback riding. My mom gave me a hug and kiss while she dried me off and got me ready for bed.
As the days went by, there were people coming in and out of our home constantly. I remember getting lots and lots of presents and meeting all kinds of family members and friends of my dad's that I didn't know. They were all really nice to me, and our house was full of people all the time, for weeks. One afternoon, a few weeks after he died, on a beautiful sunny winter day, the crowd had thinned out a bit, and things were unusually quiet. There was a knock on the door and my mom answered it. I heard her speaking to someone, and then she called for me to come to the door.
There, in front of our house, was my dad's friend Kirk, who I had only met once or twice and looked vaguely familiar. He stood in our driveway, holding the reins of a tall, beautiful, dark brown horse. Kirk shook my hand and reminded me who he was. He told me that he had been my dad's boss and that my dad talked about me all the time. He asked if I wanted to go for a ride. My mom stood by, watching as I jumped up and down with excitement. It would be my first ever horseback riding adventure. She thanked Kirk for his kindness in coming over and told him how much she appreciated the gesture.
I remember hearing Kirk say, "Joelle, it was the weirdest thing — I was outside, standing in my front yard, and I swear I heard Eric's voice, asking me to stop by and take Jackson horseback riding." I stopped petting the horse and ran over. I said, "See Mom, I told you Daddy said he asked Kirk to come take me horseback riding, and here he is!"
From that day on, I knew my dad was around me and I knew that he was watching out for me. As I grew up, I stopped hearing my dad talk to me the way I did when I was little. But just knowing that it happened changed me. It makes me believe in angels and that the people we love are never really gone. I guess, as we get older, our lives get so busy and noisy that we can't hear them, but I know my dad is there.
One day, about a week after my dad died, I was taking a bath in my mom's bathtub, and she heard me having a conversation with someone while she was picking up the clothes I had thrown on the floor. She was curious and asked who I was speaking to. I told her I was talking to my dad. Being that I wasn't even three, my mom figured that it was my way of dealing with the situation, so she asked me, "What did you talk about?" I told her that my dad came to see me and told me that he had been to visit his friend Kirk, who was his boss and also our neighbor about a mile down the road. He said that he had asked Kirk to come take me horseback riding. My mom gave me a hug and kiss while she dried me off and got me ready for bed.
As the days went by, there were people coming in and out of our home constantly. I remember getting lots and lots of presents and meeting all kinds of family members and friends of my dad's that I didn't know. They were all really nice to me, and our house was full of people all the time, for weeks. One afternoon, a few weeks after he died, on a beautiful sunny winter day, the crowd had thinned out a bit, and things were unusually quiet. There was a knock on the door and my mom answered it. I heard her speaking to someone, and then she called for me to come to the door.
There, in front of our house, was my dad's friend Kirk, who I had only met once or twice and looked vaguely familiar. He stood in our driveway, holding the reins of a tall, beautiful, dark brown horse. Kirk shook my hand and reminded me who he was. He told me that he had been my dad's boss and that my dad talked about me all the time. He asked if I wanted to go for a ride. My mom stood by, watching as I jumped up and down with excitement. It would be my first ever horseback riding adventure. She thanked Kirk for his kindness in coming over and told him how much she appreciated the gesture.
I remember hearing Kirk say, "Joelle, it was the weirdest thing — I was outside, standing in my front yard, and I swear I heard Eric's voice, asking me to stop by and take Jackson horseback riding." I stopped petting the horse and ran over. I said, "See Mom, I told you Daddy said he asked Kirk to come take me horseback riding, and here he is!"
From that day on, I knew my dad was around me and I knew that he was watching out for me. As I grew up, I stopped hearing my dad talk to me the way I did when I was little. But just knowing that it happened changed me. It makes me believe in angels and that the people we love are never really gone. I guess, as we get older, our lives get so busy and noisy that we can't hear them, but I know my dad is there.
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