mourning Archives - Lisa Colón DeLay

On missing Steve Jobs

I knew Steve Jobs was going to die, so I’m not surprised. But, I am saddened. The departure of such a pivot human being so effecting to the way many of us live everyday is a profound event. What a creative mind. How innovative. What a gift we had.

MacIntosh, Pixar, iPod…and so on probably touched your world too.

The man had 317 patents (see a list and visuals here), and forever altered not just personal computing, but telephone communication, media, the music industry, computer animation/movies, and how we encounter the internet. There’s an App for everything, but now there is no App for missing him. iMourn was the headline on one major online news source, and worldwide Twitter Trends yesterday and today included #ThankYouSteveJobs, #iSad, #ThinkDifferent, #Pixar and more in tribute to him.

I remember using the 1984 MacIntosh, the first product to make Personal Computers truly accessible to regular people. The first Mac I could buy myself was a 7100, with money from a school loan. Graphic Designers are schooled on Macs. We enjoy Apple products. We get loyal, and admire the continual creativity and innovation of a man and a company that doesn’t settle or rely on pilfering products and ideas from other companies to keep going. One word describes Jobs, and really a large part of the American spirit: Innovation!

My prayers go to his family and friends. He leaves behind his wife of 20 years, Laurene, and their 3 children: Reed, Erin, and Eve.

He will be very missed by a great many around the globe.

Do you have a favorite Apple product? What was one of your first experiences like with an Apple product?

I thank you to share your feelings or comments about the passing of Steve Jobs.

Tomb Day

Things have been sort of heavy around here lately, with Lent, and Jesus dying and everything. Easter-wise, I think we’re in “tomb time” at this point. It’s where Jesus is physically dead from execution. Everybody in Jesus’ world has had a super crappy day. They put him in the ground, and seal it up. He’s dead. Their hearts and dreams are broken and shattered.

Jesus is in paradise or Hades… or maybe someone should explain that to me…hang on… Okay. Checked on that. If that bit is confusing to you too, try this article. (Then get back here, before I lose my train of thought.)

Anyway, I’m writing this from home. No. I should say, I’m writing this from a place where my mother lives, and where I spent a few college breaks, and one horrid 6 week summer stint before I got married almost 16 years ago. So, actually not home at all. There’s a dislocation all over.

My mom still lives here. It was her late husband’s house. A guy who wasn’t my father.

There’s a guy here, now. I call him Jerry, she calls him fiancé. They met on the computer, in February. I thought he would go back to his place by now, but it’s almost 11pm, and he’s still hanging around. We’re slated to see him, at his place, tomorrow, and most of Sunday, here. Trust me, it’s weird to be in my head, right now.

It feels much like I’m the protagonist in a very awkward Ben Stiller movie. But I haven’t had a chance to figure out my lines. The plot is sketchy. The characters are underdeveloped. I wouldn’t be able to explain it all, even if I tried. But, this picture may reveal much of what I can’t. (I’m the one on the left.)

Kind of funny picture, no? Laugh for me, if you can.

So, I ate my feelings today. Which, in this case, means about a half a cup of Rasinets, and other sugar and carb no-nos. It feels like Tomb time. Things seem ruined, or broken, and altogether not right. I will acknowledge this.

I won’t shove it aside, or pretend I can’t feel it, see it, smell it. Life can really suck. (That’s a theological term. It means…oh nevermind.)

YET! I know this thing. Nothing can keep the dawn from coming.

I really like Easter and Spring. And well, life. Rebirth is also–excellent. Brighter days are ahead. Death has no victory. The tomb cannot keep us. Even the tomb of discontent, or broken dreams.

We are poised to celebrate life and renewal. Come, Lord Jesus.

I usually encourage responses to my posts. But this time, I’m just letting it all hang out without a care of that. You can do what you’d like, I just need to sit here for a while.

change, "The Little Car"

My son, as many of you know, is autistic. Change is very hard for him. He exemplifies what many of us feel at times of change, but in the extreme.

On Saturday, when he was away at a therapy program, we had to scrap our Toyota Paseo of 13 years. It was 17 years old, ran well over 169,000 miles, and finally the engine went.

Nathan had wanted to clean and fix the car (himself), and when he saw it was gone, it broke his heart, and he cried a broken-hearted cry for quite a bit. Yesterday, at breakfast he sang a song, of mourning,

“I miss you Little Car. I miss you so much. I miss you Little Car, I do…”

We salvaged the license plate, and he was happy for this. He colored two pieces of paper similar to the color of the car, and had Tim, my husband, attach the plate to it. Today, he took it to school to show his class, and tell the tale. It seemed to bring some closure for him, even as we discussed these plans.

Even though change is inevitable, it seems to me that some ritual is important to journey through change. Nathan is a good teacher. He feels things very deeply, and sometimes his tenderness, even towards machines, reminds the rest of us, that bonds can grow tight, and separation hurts the heart. It’s not something to just “get over,” but rather something to swim through, like mud, sometimes.

Below are some pictures of Nathan’s friend, and our family transportation for the last 13 years, The Little Car.

What rituals, or ways of transitioning, have helped you or others during loss?