In memory of Jarrad Forcella Cole
September 5th, 2007Dear Readers: As some of you know, I lost my son, Jarrad, a few weeks ago. On the morning of August 4, he was killed in a motorcycle accident. It was Saturday. He was 18, leaving in a few weeks to attend California Maritime Academy in Vallejo.
Jarrad had the bike for 30 minutes. It was new. He was wearing a helmet, practicing on a side street going less than 25 miles per hour. He died instantly.
As you can imagine, I have been in shock, in denial, and I have blamed.
Over the next days, hundreds and hundreds of people arrived at his side. It was during this time that I realized that Jarrad’s destiny was his own, nobody was to blame, and that if I really wanted to honor Jarrad, I would take a leaf from his songbook: I would stand joyfully in who I am, I would take more time to connect, I would practice loving without embarrassment, I would find pleasure in hard work, I would make sure to play with my friends.
Jarrad, you had more life in the tip of your little finger than most of us have in our whole body. This column is for you, Jarrad. Thank you for your love.
From Johannes, 20: I heard the news and fell to the kitchen floor sobbing. I loved Jarrad’s extroversion, his intrinsic motivation to be a wonderful person. Five days before the accident, Jarrad picked me up at the airport. He loved me so much. Spotting me in the crowd, he ran, lifted me up, twirling me around yelling and smiling, “YO-HANNES!!” It was classic Jarrad. I was blushing, yet I loved the way he made me feel. The life he led, in retrospect, was angelic. He helped so many people, loved even more, and is missed by more yet. That is an unusual statistic, and the only way I can understand it is to say he was more than human in his existence. Jarrad taught me things it takes lifetimes to learn. We, as people, spend too much time on insignificant things. Jarrad did none of that. Jarrad loved, cared for, and guarded those he knew. Jarrad had life on the ropes and was living it how one should. If we all adopted his mentality, unspeakable peace could exist. Jarrad was the purest form of life I knew.
From Lennon Cole, 20: From my earliest memories, Jarrad overshadowed me in practically everything. You might think I’d have taken this badly, but Jay had this amazing way of loving you that made you love him back. He was impossible to stay mad at. I used to wonder why I was born first; now I know: I am supposed to fill this space he left.
From Sawyer Cole, 16: Jarrad, you were not only my brother, you were my role model. You stood up straight; you were strong. You didn’t use drugs or alcohol, you didn’t even drink soda. Yet you had more fun and more friends than anybody I know. I don’t know how you did it, but I promise to try, too.
From Akasha Cole, 13: Jarrad, you always looked out for me and made me feel special. You are who everyone admired and wanted to be because you made everyone feel wanted. Remember how you would prance around in your underwear and sing? In 18 years, you put more spirit into this world than most people do in 90.
You always inspired me to do the right thing. I remember when that handicapped boy came up to you on the street with his left hand out. You just put your left out and shook hands, making him feel wanted, too. I remember his mother saying, “Thank you for treating my son like an equal. Nobody his age does that.”
From Nicole, 17: Last summer, friends and I set sail in two boats and found ourselves in the middle of Lake Natoma with no wind. After 30 minutes, we concluded that the only way we were going to get home was by a miracle. As we spoke, in the distance we saw a large splashing object coming straight toward us. Of course! It was Jarrad!! Someone on shore had called him and he had come to save us. With his supernatural strength, he grabbed a boat in each hand and swam us a quarter mile upriver to our destination. Whether he was making you laugh, comforting you, or pulling you up a river, Jarrad and his huge smile was there for everyone. He is loved forever.
