Jimmy's Blessed Yellow Coat

3/23/11

Jimmy’s Blessed Yellow Coat

     Mom unconsciously pushes and pushes at Jim every time she sees him. “Why don’t you just take Dad’s coat along?  It’s in the back seat of my car. I just had it cleaned; it’s almost like new.  It will keep you warm, and look better than that old yellow one you’re always wearing, Jimmy.”

     “No.” Always the same answer. Always, and with that stiff lower chin, evidence of his self determination.  And evidence of inheriting his Dad’s stubbornness.  Jim’s taxi-cab yellow winter coat grows a filthier and filthier sheen on the front all along the zipper each time Sandy, Mom, or I see Jimmy. 

     Sandy and I back away, and stand to the side. We watch the “dance they dance”, as this plays out once again between Mom and Jim.  We know that, while Mom means well, she won’t get it into her thick eighty year old skull that Jim needs his independence.  She simply follows her Mother’s instinct to "protect her young", even though this "young-un" is fifty five!  And, I know she is battling that nasty old guilt about having a mentally ill grown son, that she cannot seem to expell from her system.

     Somewhere along this life of mine, I got it that Jimmy needs to own his coat and his life on his own terms. Maybe my own path toward maturity and the illnesses I have been following have helped me see him clearer. Maybe I have grown to see him through his eyes better because of my conversations and work with Sandy toward supporting Jim. Anyhow, I do have some understandings and want to respect and honor him. I think I know a few things. 

     I know Jimmy’s heart is broken from losing Dad. He misses the way Dad knew how to deal with him when he visited. I am sure the last thing he wants is Dad’s left-over belongings. He absolutely does not want and will not take Dad’s coat. Or other reminders, like Dad’s watch, which Mom also keeps bringing up whenever she sees him, and keeps pressuring Jim to take. I know Mom means no harm, but please…he’s crazy, he’s not stupid.

     Jim is stuck on the fact that Dad’s dog was put down. And his illness won’t let him listen to reason about why. Part of him blames Mom for that, and he isn’t able to let go. He just loves dogs and that's that. I don't think he ever got over losing Chi-Chi all those decades ago--HIS dog. I think when he sees Mom, he now resents her for putting Dad's dog down. It is really so unfortunate, and unfair to Mom.

     And Jimmy needs his independence respected. Sandy shared that with me that this is his top priority. He knows he is an adult, and he needs to be given choices, rather than pressured into corners to accept demands. He operates pretty cooperatively when he is given choices. That is easy for me to provide. A fun challenge, too! 

     And, Jimmy proves he is smart. On Monday, I was just finishing up walking around the Square with my picket sign; Scooter in tow. I thought, “We’ll go past the coffee shop and check to see if Jim is in the window.”  Just as I was about to veer off onto State St., there it was. That taxi-cab yellow coat came into focus.  It was boldly blaring straight in front of me, on the corner by the Veteran’s Museum.  As I started to realize what I was looking at, sure enough, a miracle! My eyes lifted, and I saw that Jimmy was wearing that filthy yellow coat as he stood there! He was just standing there, looking for me! Sandy had told him I was up there almost every day, so he came to find me. Bless the filthy yellow coat.

     I asked him if he wanted to get together for a cup of coffee, and, flustered, he immediately replied that, “I can’t right now.”  I bet he felt pressured and a bit cornered in the abrupt way I asked that question. 

     I quietly muttered, “Well, I didn’t mean right now, anyway. I have to get Scooty home. How about later in the week or next week?” 

     He said, “Uh, two weeks or next week.  Are you gonna wear shorts?”

     I was suddenly surprised not only to have to plan my wardrobe in advance with him, but to think that I haven’t seen Jim in shorts since he was on the high school basketball team. I replied, “I don’t know, Jim.  Pause.  Are you?”

     “Yeah.  It’s gonna be hot then.” Being schizophrenic has its own rules, I guess.  (The weather better cooperate!)

     So, I figured I better set a date before he got away, and we did.  I let him pick the date, time, and place.  (Choices, choices). He paused, and then came up with 1:00, “So I have enough time to get to the Health Care Center,” @ Steep ’n Brew on State, next Wed. I marveled at the level of responsibility and self-respect he demonstrated in his answer.

     When I asked, “Would it be just the two of us, or could I invite Sandy", Jim interrupted me and answered, “Oh, yeah, Sandy!”  He is definitely bonded with Sandy, and excited to see her! That is such good growth, and such a positive sign, I thought to myself. 

     I asked for a hug, and he politely gave me a real one. I whispered, “I love you, Jim,” turned, tugged Scooter, and walked away. As Scootie and I skipped off toward the parking ramp, I yanked out my phone to excitedly call Sandy. We reached the the curb, and I ordered Scooter to, "Sit". I turned, phone to my ear, and, sure enough, Jim had stiffly angled his body toward me, to watch me go. It made me wonder what he was thinking about: Sandy and I and our encounters with him; Scooter; conversation; choices; getting together; taking risks; making plans; love; trust; remembering; connecting; family.
   
    As I described the encounter with Sandy, she responded, “Bless the yellow coat.”