I Remember Jimmy
by Julie Jordan Scott
From childhood, I remember bits and pieces and senses
I remember shiny hardwood floors
And interestingly shaped rooms
And playing boy games with Jimmy
when I would have preferred dolls
Or something like that
With parents as friends, you play with the children
So that was the context of remembering Jimmy
I can hear him calling my little brother "Little Joe"
Different from me, who called him Joey
I now call my neighbors Robert and Little Robert
And I remember Jimmy
I last saw Jimmy at his sister's wedding
It was a good twelve or more years ago
I remember little except a warm wooly sweater
And thinking it was the first time
I saw my father not drink champagne
As I emptied a couple glasses myself
And I remember Jimmy
After we left the wedding I sat in the back seat
As we drove from San Diego to home
I started crying, with no explanation at all
When my husband turned and saw my silent tears it scared him
"What's wrong?" he asked, "I don't know, I don't know"
I whispered as the tears kept coming
Rolling down my face
I wonder if a small part of me knew, somehow, sensed, somehow
And I remember Jimmy
Its been seven years since I got the news
That Jimmy had died, and it had been by his own hand
I sat hunched in a chair, like a partially deflated balloon
My infant daughter had died the month before
She died in my womb, when I should have been able
To protect her--I was fully responsible for her
the only one who knew her
Since then I had often thought
"What if I just turned the car this way?" off a steep embankment
So I could once again care for my little girl
I pondered the easiest way to take care of the deed
So I could once again be close to my only child
my long awaited child
And I remembered Jimmy
My mother would call me and say, "Just hold on,
Just hold on, Julie"
As I waded through those dark days
But it wasn't until Jimmy died that I realized
My work wasn't over here yet, and I needed to stay
My life, saved by Jimmy's suicide
And I remember Jimmy
Since June 23,1999
