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I got a few words for that "Death" guy...
Today I'll be discussing how I am reacting to the news that a good friend of mine from college, has died. If this is too much of a downer for you, by all means, do not subject yourself to the madness...
I was on a long car ride this past weekend, and was listening to couple of radio dramas that some friends and I put together in college. I was particularly reminded of my buddy Fred "Red" Wood. He did not have red hair, but he was tall and solid and sort of stabilizing, much like those big trees that hang around forever. He was a funny guy, loads of fun, never spoke ill of people. He liked What's Opera Doc?, Tiny Toons and that cartoon with the bulldog and the kitten and he thinks the kitten is in the cookie batter so he has a kitten shaped cookie on his back. Red Wood died last month after a 3 year battle with cancerous brain tumors. I found out about 40 minutes ago.
This might explain why I think I have all the time in the world to catch up with people and make sure they all know how I feel about them. For some reason, that seems really important after someone dies. I think of all the time I've had to reach that person, all the times I have mentioned them to others, but never bothered to obtain even an Email address. So maybe, they died without knowing how important they are to others, or us, me or everyone. You just don't know.
I certainly dont think that my opinion of someone would have enhanced thier life to any great degree--this is not self-depreciating, just realistic. But once someone has died, I usually take the next week or two to focus on my "new idea" to make sure everyone knows how important they are to me, at all times. Over the years, I have developed into someone who is able to tell friends that they are loved (even using silly words like "love"). I have tried to keep in touch with people even if they have no time to write back, or we keep missing eachother on the phone.
And after some time goes by, its business a usual again. Still sad, still aware that any conversation could be your last with someone. And people say you have to "move on with your life" whatever the hell that means. So you check up on people less and less often, and another one dies and you haven't heard from them in years.
I feel bad about Fred. Bad that he has died so young, and bad that I hadn't heard from him in years. Bad that I never copied that disc for him, bad that I didn't even know he was sick until he had died. Bad that out of twenty-one of us who pledged, two of us have died far far too young.
The worst thing? Even now, I won't use this pain to make me call my mother and talk to her. I haven't seen or spoken to her since September 1995. I've been told that she is sick with cancer and has been since 1999. It is also true that she gave me brain lesions that could make me senile as soon as next year, or maybe never. And many friends have told me to take care of this business with her, because if she dies first it will haunt me forever. I kind of laugh at that, how much more haunted could I be?
So man, if you haven't told your five best friends how important they are, maybe you should do it this week.
I was on a long car ride this past weekend, and was listening to couple of radio dramas that some friends and I put together in college. I was particularly reminded of my buddy Fred "Red" Wood. He did not have red hair, but he was tall and solid and sort of stabilizing, much like those big trees that hang around forever. He was a funny guy, loads of fun, never spoke ill of people. He liked What's Opera Doc?, Tiny Toons and that cartoon with the bulldog and the kitten and he thinks the kitten is in the cookie batter so he has a kitten shaped cookie on his back. Red Wood died last month after a 3 year battle with cancerous brain tumors. I found out about 40 minutes ago.
This might explain why I think I have all the time in the world to catch up with people and make sure they all know how I feel about them. For some reason, that seems really important after someone dies. I think of all the time I've had to reach that person, all the times I have mentioned them to others, but never bothered to obtain even an Email address. So maybe, they died without knowing how important they are to others, or us, me or everyone. You just don't know.
I certainly dont think that my opinion of someone would have enhanced thier life to any great degree--this is not self-depreciating, just realistic. But once someone has died, I usually take the next week or two to focus on my "new idea" to make sure everyone knows how important they are to me, at all times. Over the years, I have developed into someone who is able to tell friends that they are loved (even using silly words like "love"). I have tried to keep in touch with people even if they have no time to write back, or we keep missing eachother on the phone.
And after some time goes by, its business a usual again. Still sad, still aware that any conversation could be your last with someone. And people say you have to "move on with your life" whatever the hell that means. So you check up on people less and less often, and another one dies and you haven't heard from them in years.
I feel bad about Fred. Bad that he has died so young, and bad that I hadn't heard from him in years. Bad that I never copied that disc for him, bad that I didn't even know he was sick until he had died. Bad that out of twenty-one of us who pledged, two of us have died far far too young.
The worst thing? Even now, I won't use this pain to make me call my mother and talk to her. I haven't seen or spoken to her since September 1995. I've been told that she is sick with cancer and has been since 1999. It is also true that she gave me brain lesions that could make me senile as soon as next year, or maybe never. And many friends have told me to take care of this business with her, because if she dies first it will haunt me forever. I kind of laugh at that, how much more haunted could I be?
So man, if you haven't told your five best friends how important they are, maybe you should do it this week.
:(
As for your mother, yeah, that's a tricky situation. I don't think there's any hope of reconciliation there, so you won't regret not talking to her because of that. But what I think you will regret is not calmly, civilly looking in her eyes and telling her every bad thing she's ever done to you your entire life. And if you've already done it, you'll regret not doing that again. BTW, you should contact your brothers too. I read in an earlier entry that you had lost touch with them as well. There's probably not as much bad blood there, so you should definitely try to get on good terms with them again.
Yeah, the older I get, the more I'm reminded through stories like yours that there might-- just *might*-- not be much time left.
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Brain lesions... maybe Dr. Weil has something you could do about that. (drweil.com) He knows everything.
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We got our asses thrown out so many times, it wasn't funny...well, yeah, it was! So, my drive down there, in a weird way, sorta helped me sort through his way too premature demise. Red is with you, dude. Always will be...
Lar
The phone rings in an average, middle-class home. A little girl answers the phone. A man speaks: "Honey, this is daddy, is mommy there?" Girl: No, daddy, she's up stairs with uncle Fred. Daddy: Uncle Fred? We don't have an uncle Fred...where is mommy? Girl: In the bedroom with uncle Fred; they're making a bunch of noise and stuff. I think mommy is hurt cuz she keeps screaming "hurt me, stud, push it deeper!" Daddy: Um, honey, go upstairs and tell mommy that daddy is on his car phone and will be home in two minutes, can you do that pumpkin? Girl: Sure, daddy, hang on...
We got our asses thrown out so many times, it wasn't funny...well, yeah, it was! So, my drive down there, in a weird way, sorta helped me sort through his way too premature demise. Red is with you, dude. Always will be...
Lar
The phone rings in an average, middle-class home. A little girl answers the phone. A man speaks: "Honey, this is daddy, is mommy there?" Girl: No, daddy, she's up stairs with uncle Fred. Daddy: Uncle Fred? We don't have an uncle Fred...where is mommy? Girl: In the bedroom with uncle Fred; they're making a bunch of noise and stuff. I think mommy is hurt cuz she keeps screaming "hurt me, stud, push it deeper!" Daddy: Um, honey, go upstairs and tell mommy that daddy is on his car phone and will be home in two minutes, can you do that pumpkin? Girl: Sure, daddy, hang on...<muffled voice...loud noises that follow> Girl: <crying> daddy, mommy is hurt bad! Daddy: What happened, angel? Girl: I told mommy about you coming home, like you said, then she said "OH SHIT" and uncle Fred jumped out the window and tried to jump in the pool, but mommy screamed that there was no water in the pool and uncle Fred got squashed and turned into a red blob. Then mommy ran downstairs and tripped on my Pikachu doll and fell, now she isn't moving and blood is coming outta her mouth! Daddy: Pool? We don't have a pool. Is this 645-1393?
:-)