Tuesday, March 20, 2007


Today was the latest step in the process of closing out Jesse's life. It's hard not to feel like I've violated him somehow, during the process of reading through his mail and his files, finding his accounts and debts, having myself made essentially the executor of his estate. Sitting in the administration office in Surrogate Court crying my eyes out filling out forms. Crying as I called and visited the banks and loan companies. Crying in the office of the notary public, of the bank officers, in line at the customer service desk. Crying when the checks came. But this morning I had to put the checks in my bank account so I can pay off his debts. It wasn't till after I was done, sitting on a park bench with my husband, sobbing, that I realized the sun was warm on the melting snow, that Jesse loved to walk outdoors, that he and I were too far apart when he died, that everything he planned so well is nothing now.

I hope there's some money left to put in his his fund at Fordham. At least that dream of his will live on a little. If the lectures and seminars sponsored by that fund inspire just a few of the next generation of lawyers and judges to rethink how children are treated in the judicial system, maybe something will change. Maybe in the audience, Jesse's spiritual heirs will gather, and his real legacy will begin.


  1. I didn't realize you'd started this project, Iso. I hope you don't mind I linked you? I hope it can help you re-knit.

    You posted this on the first day of Spring.

    Please come around if the inclination strikes, and the demands of your life allow it. Your friends will always be glad to see you.

  2. This is Alex, Jesse's friend from Chicago/debate. I just wanted you to know that Jesse was so special, and so loved. The impact that he made on people is one that most people cannot aspire to in an entire life time. I just wanted to let you know that I dont go a day without thinking about him, and cry for him about as often. I miss him so much, and am so thankful to have known him. I am going to keep this brief because I know that this runs the risk of hurting you instead of providing the comfort that it intends. I know that you are not religious, and neither am I, but my entire family has prayed for you and continues to everyday. What you went through touched every mother in my family, my mom and aunts, all who have met Jesse, and all who empathize for you and wish you all the best. Through this all, I have become friends with Jody as well, and want you to know that you have two amazing, resilient sons. You should be so proud of both of them and proud of yourself for having raised them. I know things weren't all that easy for you and Jesse, and there was distance between you, but that fact that he was capable of being so independent so early on speaks to how well you did raising him early on. I'm babbling and know I need to stop. I guess the take home message here is that your son was one of my best friends for years, he was my support system and I loved him, even though we were always so far away. I am so thankful for the time that I had with him, and would like to thank you for giving him to the world.

  3. Iso,

    I just wanted to let you know that I am feeling your pain and anguish every step of the way.

    I just don't know what to say other than to repeat the sentiment expressed here.


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