Heartbroken

On April 21, 2023, someone I consider a second mother to me passed away.

Her name is The Honorable Cynthia Carson Jackson.  She may have earned the title “Honorable” by becoming a federal judge, but everyone who knows her is honored to have her in their lives.  Through her influence, we cultivate happiness, resilience, and love.

The bulk of this post is extremely personal, but something that I wanted to share despite its personal nature because I wouldn’t be who I am today without her.

If you would like to support her family in their time of need, please consider donating to http://www.everloved.com/life-of-cynthia-jackson . Her family wants to purchase a bench in her honor in the Blue Ridge Mountains, a special place for their family. If you would like to read her full obituary, please see it here: https://www.jacksonville.com/obituaries/pfla0478887 . Her service will be held on Saturday, May 6, 2023 at 2:00 p.m. Therefore, I will be with her friends and family to celebrate her life instead of at Free Comic Book day this year.

Selfishly, I have spent the past few weeks lamenting how I did not have enough time with her and how I never asked permission to call her “momma”.  I think about the night I met her - the only night where we could talk without language barriers due to her aphasia.  As I’ve told Judge Jackson many times, I’m so grateful for her taking me into her flock that night.  I’m so grateful for her putting her arm around me, a complete stranger, and sharing with me.  I’m grateful for her accepting me as someone who could care for her son.

The next time I saw her was six months after she suffered two strokes and was on the verge of being discharged from a hospital without anywhere that would accept her because of lasting medical complications from her second stroke.  She couldn’t go to a nursing home.  She couldn’t go to an assisted living facility.  She couldn’t go anywhere.

She had a grade 4 bed sore.

She had aphasia.

She had significant vision impairment in her right eye.

She had lost her ability to speak.

She had lost her ability to walk.

She had lost the use of the right side of her body.

She had lost the ability to read.

She had lost the ability to write.

She had severe, lasting complications from the second stroke that caused her unbearable pain and that would persist and slowly worsen for the rest of her life.

For tonight, I ask that you try to tell someone what you want to eat and drink for dinner without writing, texting, speaking, using pictures, using props, using menus, or speaking through sign language.  Do this without even telling them that they are going to have to figure out what food you want.  Do this without using your dominant hand.  Do this without walking. 

How would you do this?  Could you do this every day?  Every meal?  Every time you were thirsty or hungry?

Under these circumstances, what would it take for you to smile?  To laugh?

This was The Honorable Judge Jackson’s life after her second stroke.  It didn’t have to be her life, but because of the second stroke, it was. 

Despite this, she could still laugh.

We fought to bring her home, the only place she could receive care.

Judge Jackson deserved to be at home with her family where she could be loved and cared for, where she would have the opportunity to heal as best as she could.  

She fought every day to be with her family for just a bit longer despite losing the ability to communicate, take care of herself, and even tell her family that she loved them.  Selflessly, she would indicate that she wanted to hear about their days.  It broke my heart and, for the past nearly three years, I’ve done everything I could to be there for her and her family.  Such an incredible woman deserved my all.

Though she knew I would do anything she asked, selfless Judge Jackson only asked two things of me.  It took a few conversations for us to reach a clear understanding, but we overcame those language barriers because of her resilience and determination.  I love Trace with all my heart and would have always given him my all.  She knew that, but I’m honored she trusts me enough to ask me to be there for him.  Selfishly, I’m honored to be charged with watching over him every day and to provide her reports on his activities and accomplishments.  Like his mom, Trace is most concerned with building up others and, when he visits with his mom, focuses on helping her.  In no world would he provide her updates on himself.  He gets this from her.  And I love that about them.

“Strength” is an inadequate word to describe Judge Jackson.

“Loving” is equally inadequate.  

Likewise, these words are inadequate for describing her family.  For the past 3 years, they have suffered together, struggled together, and lamented together.  Despite this, they laughed, smiled, and persevered.  Despite their suffering, they did what they could to support me, too.  I attribute this to the strength and love she spent her entire life giving to them. 

Selfishly, I’m grateful to be in their lives, to have them call me their family.

I often tell her son that he’s sunshine in my life.  He brings me hope, strength, and warmth. 

He gets that from his mom.  She’s sunshine, too.

Her children have her smile that brightens a room.

Her children have her intelligence and devotion to facts, knowledge, and curiosity.

Her children and husband express her same desire to be compassionate, hospitable, and welcoming to all people.

And, much like her, they all have a strong sense of independence but can come together as a family to celebrate, vibe, and mourn.

It’s more than a resemblance.  It’s more than similar behaviors.  It’s far, far more than that.

Her children and her husband are who they are because of her ability to selflessly radiate sunshine in their lives, even when they were on the other side of the country, even when she struggled to breathe.

Selfishly, I know I haven’t lost Judge Jackson because I’m so blessed to be a part of her family, surrounded by her smile and warmth.  I see her in them.  I feel her love through them.  And I realize how blessed I am to be surrounded by that love every day.

I’m honored that Judge Jackson has shown me herself and through her children and husband what it means to be a part of a family, something I’ve struggled to understand for my entire life.

I’m so grateful to Judge Jackson for teaching her son to build bridges, a lesson he has passed onto me that I feel makes me a better communicator than I was before I met them.  I’m honored to learn this ability from them.

I’m honored that Judge Jackson has taught me that it’s ok to laugh when times are hard.

I’m honored that Judge Jackson has taught me that real familial love is unconditional.

I’m honored that Judge Jackson has taken an interest in my personal and professional growth, and has been supportive of my goals, dreams, and passions.

I’m honored that Judge Jackson has taken her precious and limited time and strength to understand me over the past three years, despite all the pain she was enduring.

I’m honored that Judge Jackson includes me in her life and accepts me as her son’s partner.

I’m honored that Judge Jackson entrusts me with her son and to provide her updates about him.  I have always looked forward to our Sunday updates and I still do.

I’m honored to receive Judge Jackson’s sunshine she puts into the world through her kindness, love, and actions as well as through her children and husband.

It took me three years to find a word that describes Judge Jackson because “strength” and love” are inadequate.  The word is “family”.  And you can’t have a family without strength, love, and so much more.  She spent three years teaching me this.

Judge Jackson is family.

I often hear about the “hole” or “vacancy” left by a loved one.  Judge Jackson didn’t leave a crater in my life.  Her sunshine grew a beautiful, vivacious garden that I’m honored to tend and cherish forever.