Luck - 056 — Jake Kahana

Hey friend,

I consider myself lucky.
Although if you knew what happened to my family this month, you might disagree.
I sent out the last Refrigerator on July 1. My mom read it and responded, as usual.
But before I even started writing this one, on July 3, she had a stroke.
And less than 4 weeks later, she was gone.
It's so crazy to see in writing: my mom died yesterday.

(Note: I didn't write this today. It took the whole month of stewing in thoughts, sitting in hospital rooms, and late night bouts of insomnia to work through these ideas.)

As much as this feels like the unluckiest thing in my whole life, I want to explore this topic through the lens of luck. Because I believe that I'm luckier than it seems.

Maybe we all are.

Neighbors

Growing up, there was this elderly couple name Ann and Marshall who lived two doors down. They had raised their children there who had long since moved out and started families of their own. We would go to their house to help rake leaves or just keep them company. A few years ago, as people I knew from high school started to move into the neighborhood with their own families, the realization hit me:

My parents were the Ann and Marshall to these young families.

When my mom was having the stroke, she came outside and flagged down a neighbor who called 911. "Sarah saved my life" my mom would repeat in the hospital.

Hearing that it initially felt heartbreaking. "no she didn't," I thought, "you're not going to survive this." But she did save her life. At least for long enough to give us a few extra days with her. And for that, I feel so lucky to have grown up in a place where neighbors take care of each other.

Bucketwishes

Lauren and I joke that my parents' all-time favorite topic of conversation is their death. Their current record is 13 minutes from "hello" to "when I croak..." But knowing my parents' end-of-life wishes made a heartbreaking decision easier. As soon as dignity, autonomy, and cognizance became unattainable for my mom, we knew that she would not have the quality of life she wanted.

I am lucky they shared their wishes.

Urgent feels Arbitrary

Going to visit my mom in the ICU every day puts everything into perspective. That email doesn't matter. The deadline is bullshit. Do I really need to finish that design today? Or is the most urgent task right now actually just sitting patiently in the hospital while I listen and hold my mom's hand? I am lucky to have a business and incredible partners to support our company so that I can pause and do the most urgent and most important things in my life right now.

Sleeves with Hearts

In her last 3 days in the hospital we played a game. AMA: ask me anything.

We shared how much we loved each other. How much she means to us and the stories and legacy that we'll be sure to retell and pass on. We're a family that has always shared how we feel. I get to tell my brother and my dad I love them and hear it back. I get to know how proud she is of me. Most families don't have that for even a few hours, let alone 38 years. And most families don't get these last days at all. I'm so lucky for the sharing we did.

Core Memories

One of the most painful parts of all of this is that my mom won't be around to help raise my children. No more reading books over Facetime. Trips to Target. No more surprise visits or pajama parties. But Abe and Golda know her. She got to know them.

I'm so lucky that the memories they created together will inspire traditions.

The Only One

Of all the moms in the whole world, I was born to her. She was mine. This incredible, inspiring, hard-working, caring, fun-loving teacher, who everyone loved and looked up to and wanted around... got to be the one that raised me. I only have one mom and I am so lucky that I get to call her mine.

Not Cheated

My mom was young. 70 years old and healthy. To suddenly have a stroke and be gone within a month is so fast. It's easy to think we all were cheated 20 or more years, gone like that. But we aren't guaranteed anything. We are not entitled to that time. None of us are.

I'm lucky I got 38 full years with her.

I wasn't sure if I should write at all this month. But I created the refrigerator as a place for exploring and sharing the experience of being alive. So here I am, exploring and sharing. And showing up. Because if I show up, I know you will too.

(Also, how lucky are we that we get to do this together?)

This has been such a difficult and meaningful month for me.

While I hope you don't have to go through it, nearly all of us will experience losing a parent at some point.

I hope– if or when it happens– you feel as lucky as I do.

If you're able to, tell your parents you love them.

🍀 & ❤️,

-Jake

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