Memorial Skydive for Caleb Esmiol (this is basically a re-posting of my previous article, but with pictures attached this time!)

Let me tell you about my cousin Caleb, and saying goodbye.

Growing up, I always respected and admired him. He was part of
the "older group" of cousins (there were 16 of us in total,) which
meant he was under no obligation to be nice to me or even pay me any
attention at all. Our families were always busy, so often we'd see
each other only once a year. I remember when I was 15, there was some
family gathering (most likely Thanksgiving,) which Caleb did not
attend... he was in the Navy SEALS and home for a brief visit, and
probably was busy doing something far more interesting than eating
turkey and listening to our Granddad lecture the family about our
Italian heritage. He made a point to stop in, however, and say hello
to everyone. Who knows when we'd last seen each other... we all stood
politely as Caleb circulated the room, giving out hugs and kisses and
telling everyone how nice it was to see them. I was thrilled when he
got to me, looked at me and grabbed both my hands and smiled, "Sarah,
you're gorgeous!" I never thought I was pretty, but I felt like it
that day.

He had his ways of reaching into your life, without ever seeming
to try very hard. When I was in my mid-20s, Caleb had just gone
through a painful divorce from his first wife, Lisa. He had tried very
hard to keep their marriage together, but she just didn't want to be
married anymore. He'd moved home to the farm in Kensington, and I
guess I was living in Beverly, MA at the time because we spent
a lot of our free time together over that year.

I must have been dating some guy who broke my heart that summer (I
used to be particularly susceptible to heartbreak for some reason,) and
Caleb and I were lamenting over the difficulties of love and failed
relationships as we swam lazily in the pool. At one point I asked him
the rhetorical question of why we should have to go through this, why
we had to experience a broken heart in life.
He looked profoundly serious as he gazed into the water, then
looked brightly at me and said, "Give me a minute to think about
that..." and we both laughed.

Then it was, "You need to try skydiving. Trust me, you'll really love it."

I wasn't quite ready for jumping out of planes, so instead
we climbed on his motorcycle and went out for dinner.
We always took the long way, which I loved.

Caleb was very open-minded. He could have long conversations
about politics or life choices and never grow tired of the discussion
because he was always willing to look at something from another
perspective.

Caleb was generous, especially with his love. If he cared about
you, he may not have been the best person in the world about staying in
touch, but when he saw you, he'd make you the center of his attention
and open his world to you. He was happy to share.

Caleb could be very protective at times, but he always maintained
his sense of wisdom. I remember one of his pep-talks, in which he made
the astute observation: "I want to protect you and keep you safe from
anything bad ever happening to you - but me wanting that for you isn't
going to keep you out of harm's way. You have to be strong and look
out for yourself.
Just the same way that I think you're special and I love spending
time with you - but I can't be the source of your self-confidence; you
have to find it in yourself. Self confidence doesn't come from other
people."

It was a valuable lesson to learn.

Caleb died very unexpectedly this past January while in his
sleep. It turns out he had an enlarged heart, but nobody knew about
it. From the grieving faces at his funeral service in Florida and the
copious tears flowing, it was clear to see that his loving friendship
had touched many lives. He will be sorely missed by many.



Approximately 6 months after he died - July the 14th - a memorial
skydive was held for him up at Skydive New England, where he'd worked
before opening up his own drop zone. I made the trip up to be part of
it, and I have to say it was an exhilarating experience. I'm so glad I
did it.



Because Caleb's wife Kari was undergoing treatments for
cancer and still has her chemotherapy port, she was not able to do a
tandem jump to scatter Caleb's ashes during free-fall... so, she asked
me if I'd want to do it. Of course I said yes! Caleb has always been
my favorite, and I felt honored.

If there is anything truly positive I can take from having to lose
Caleb, it would be the opening of my life to his amazing wife, Kari.
She is probably the strongest woman I've ever known, and is an
inspiration to me and all those around her. She was diagnosed with
breast cancer only 2 days after Caleb's funeral, and while I'm sure
that dealing with her diagnosis, the sickness, and all the treatments
has been dreadful for her, she's never stopped looking forward to each
new day. She doesn't mope around feeling sorry for herself - but
instead, is a shining example of grace, courage, and strength of spirit.

She opened her home to me and then her heart. She bared her soul
to me, and then listened with loving patience while I opened myself to
her. She has trusted me and cheered me on, all the while letting me
stay beside her in some of her times of need.

Losing Caleb has opened up an unexpected place in my life... a
place where I suddenly see this beautiful, smart and loving woman
beside me and I realize she is like the sister I've always wanted but
never had before.


Kari (in red) and me



I have to admit, I was pretty scared about making a skydive (my last
jump was with Caleb, over 10 years ago,) and very emotional. The only
reason I ever got into skydiving was because of Caleb, and getting
ready to make a tandem jump brought back lots of memories. I'm sure it
was an emotional event for all who participated, as Caleb has
influenced us all very deeply, but thankfully, skydivers - or Caleb's
friends - have the capacity to be extremely supportive and encouraging.



I think there were about 14 skydivers in the jump, and Dan (my
tandem-instructor, who was also a very good friend of Caleb) and
myself. I was to wear a pouch with Caleb's ashes on my arm, and at the
designated time release the ashes into the air during free-fall.



We were concerned that I wouldn't remember to hold my arm out far
enough and the ashes would go directly into our faces, so
another jumper - Dr. Pete - wore the pouch on his arm. During the
formation, he held out his arm to me and I grabbed on to it, and then
when it was time, he pointed to the handle on the pouch singnaling me
to pull it open.




a moment of silence



The ride up was quiet, with the tension broken by an occasional
light-hearted comment or shared hug. Before I knew it, the
altimeters were registering at over 14,000 feet. The plane door
was opened, that familiar rush of cold-air, adrenaline and
engine noise filled my head.

We were out.

In free-fall, Dr. Pete and the others were quickly at my side. We hung
on as best we could to our formation, and then Dr. Pete was pointing to
the pouch of Caleb's ashes on his arm.

I pulled and yanked on this handle but the pouch wouldn't open!
I kept pulling on it, and Dr. Pete tried to lend a hand but then we had
to break apart to get ready to open the parachutes. Dr. Pete was still
working on opening this pouch, and he had fallen below me so I was
looking down, watching to see if he'd get it open... when suddenly Dan
and I were pelted in the face with Caleb's ashes.
Thanks, Caleb! He always was such a trickster.





When we got down on the ground, Caleb's older brother Matt was snapping pictures
and laughing at me. He said, "You're covered in Caleb!" Sure enough, I looked down
and my jumpsuit was covered in splotches of grey ash.







Despite this mishap, it was the best jump I've ever experienced, and I
now have a renewed love for skydiving. My birthday is the day before
Caleb's - it's July 23rd, and Caleb's was July 24th (10 years and one
day apart) - so I'm now considering going up for another commemorative
skydive...



I'll keep you posted...

Blue Skies Forever