I don’t mention our first born son, Jimmy, very often, yet I should. Especially today, September 16th, as he would have been 36 years old. Hard to believe that one isn’t it? Jimmy was born mentally retarded, a genetic disposition I wouldn’t find out until years later that was on my side of the family. (Thank you Beth) My pregnancy was uneventful and the labor swift for a first child. Turns out I would be able to deliver quick with all my kids. It wasn’t until Jimmy was about 3 months old and during a well baby check up visit that it was noticed he might be behind in his development. We were referred to UCLA where he would be further evaluated. That whole time seems so very long ago. Even though I outwardly feel fine about living through his whole life experience, inside I turn to a place of great sadness.

UCLA is a big campus and we visited it a lot, for his diagnosis, and for his physical therapy. I knew in my heart all along that the therapy was to appease others, for Jimmy would stay the same no matter what we agreed or felt we had to agree to do in hopes of helping him develop further than his approximate 5-6 months physical age. That in itself made and still makes me sad.

At the age of 2 Jerry and I decided to put him in a home, South Bay, for special needs children. It was a small home and I was able to visit often, even helping out with more physical therapy for him. I met wonderful people along the way and came to realize that in some ways my young son was helping me grow up and learn through these life experiences some good can come. As years passed his health declined, and he would often get sick, a common occurence in a nursing home. Close to the end I talked to the nursing home doctor and we decided on instituting a DNR (do not resuscitate) for him.

Jimmy was almost 8 when he passed away from pneumonia. Such a young guy. Finally now he would be at peace. Jerry and I had him cremated and enlisting the services of a sea burial took him out at Kings Harbor in Redondo Beach. It had been raining the day before yet the sun chose to shine that morning and all throughout our ride out. It was very strange for me personally to see the box and then ashes as we spread them 3 miles out at sea and know this was all that physically remained of our son. His ashes, like sea shells fell on the moving water. Goodbye my son. I’ll always love you.

After several attempts and lots of desire I was beginning to wonder if there was a reason I shouldn’t see the movie “Into The Wild”, directed by Sean Penn. I knew it would affect me deeply after I saw it featured on the

Oprah show recently. There was something I couldn’t quite put a finger on in the interview, possibly a connection to our son Jason whom I thought had similiar comparisons, or maybe the fact that this book based on the real story of the same name was about this young man who would be so affected by the materialistic part of what was becoming his life that he decided to embark on a quest to find his true self, and died doing so. This trajedy to me was so sad. Weird as it may seem I find myself seeking tragic stories because I relate to them so deeply, possibly due to the death of our son Jimmy, at the age of 8, which was related to him being handicapped. It’s not so much that I want to relive his death, but that I feel such empathy towards anyone having to deal with the death of a loved one, especially a child. The feeling that comes over me is almost overwhelming, I want to hear their story and comfort them. I want to cry with them and hold their hand.So when I saw Oprah’s show and listened to the struggle that Sean Penn went through to be allowed to tell it, but also the making of the film, I knew I had to see it. At first the movie was only playing in far away select theaters with evening show times, and then the theater that was nearby was unexpectedly closed when we were finally able to go see it. Our third attempt was successful, and Into The Wild was just as moving and beautifully choreographed as I had heard it would be.

Chris McCandless played by US television and film actor Emile Hirsch, takes us over a 2 year period starting in June 1990 where he had just graduated with honors from Emory University in Atlanta, through the western United States, stopping in Arizona, California and South Dakota with his instinctual desire to head to the wilds of Alaska. Penn tried to retrace and film McCandless’ route as close as possible, and Hirsch at times with Penn leading, performed his own stunts. Along the way McCandless met and made some unforgetable friends, whom he promised to meet up with again after he’d followed his dream. The movie portrayed these friends as deeply admiring McCandless for his passion and loving his honesty and candidness. A few scenes with Hirsch in wild Alaska are hard to watch as he dropped 41 lbs to correctly portray McCandless at his end, starving to death. The photography all through out the movie is beautiful and made me want to go explore the great outdooors. Overall I highly recommend this movie, for it may help many find their passion to seek their inner identity.