January 3, 2025
january 3, 2025
JAKEY JAKE,
The nickname will never die. Nice try.
Not going to lie, I’m feeling heated that I was not invited to whatever beer pong tradition this is. How sexist! I would’ve loved to have been stallioned. Although, I guess I understand why that wouldn’t have worked. Couldn’t exactly flash my chest to a stadium of high schoolers without getting suspended. Especially after we had to get rid of the underwear run-through that year. I mean, how else were we supposed to celebrate one last practice run of the show before States except to strip down to our underwear? I guess, in your case, with beer pong.
I want to say I’m so sorry and write all of the things that I guess one is meant to offer in this sort of situation, but honestly? Jake, everything about what happened to you sucks. Big time sucks. Your therapist is right; you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself that your grief manifested the way it did. Yes, using is not the answer. But I also can see why all of this happened. I’m sad that you went through it alone. I’m angry that we as a society don’t have a solution for helping people struggling with mental illness of any kind…or with an addiction. It just…big time sucks.
Thank you for sharing your story though, for being brave with me. I know you feel guilty about the funeral, but don’t be. Seriously. I flew in to see you, but I also flew in for me. Your mom was there for me in more ways than you probably even realize. I came to pay my respects to a woman I deeply admired. All of us did.
Did you know your mom came to my rescue one night the summer before senior year? It was after band camp. Carmen and I held the annual flute sleepover, which also included the clarinets and the color guard, so I guess we couldn’t just say “the flutes.” But yeah, we had our sleepover. It was never a rowdy thing, just a bunch of girls squealing and singing songs until whoever’s poor mother was hosting us came barreling downstairs to tell us to shut up and go to bed. That year it was my house…and my parents weren’t around. They went out to dinner, trusting that we wouldn’t do anything stupid. But the freshmen decided to be stupid. While the majority of us were watching swoony Joe Jonas in Camp Rock and eating tubs of ice cream, a few of the freshman girls snuck into the basement and decided it would be a great idea to drink a lot of vodka. One of them got really sick, and naturally, I was a high schooler and dumb and unsure of what to do. If I called my parents, I would be grounded for eternity. If I called for medical help, I would possibly be suspended and lose my captain position…and be grounded for eternity. So my best solution was to call your mom. I remembered she told me she worked as a nurse at one of your potluck dinners, so she came to the house and took care of Emily. She did scold me and I cried, but then she gave me a hug and told me with such love that I was the leader and I needed to actually lead. That was the first time I understood that being a leader goes beyond what happens on the field. I respected her so much after that, and trusted her with my life.
Between running all of those fundraisers and altering our uniforms and chaperoning competitions, our band would not have succeeded without your mom. I still can’t believe she hosted the entire band for dinners at your house. How in the world did all 150 of us fit? I wish I had a Sharon for Colchester Academy. But there’s simply no one like her. She was a diamond in the rough. A white stallion.
Ah, Colchester Academy. Part of me wishes they were still bandholes, or something, but these kids don’t care enough even for that. How could they not care? Our numbers are getting smaller and smaller every year. We went from 125 kids when I started to 65. I hear Mariner’s is down to 80 now. It’s so sad.
My reasoning for leaving California is also a long story, but for my mental well-being, I’m going to keep it short. I met Cory my freshman year of college, and thought he was the one. I assumed after graduation that he was going to propose, because truthfully, all signs were leading in that direction. He had these big plans for a job after graduation, for getting married and having kids. But apparently, those plans were never meant to include me. It was a full Legally Blonde kind of moment. I went to dinner thinking I would leave with a ring. Instead, I left with a broken heart.
I saw that Colchester was looking for a new director a couple days after, and I applied. Moved back to Mass a few months later.
Phew, glad that’s over with.
Your turn. Do you have someone in your life?
Shelly