Dealing with death.
I recently attended two funerals for to friends of my age. My friend Wayne died of cancer, and my friend Mike overdosed on drugs. It brought me down and took me back to that horrific day I lost my little brother. I spent a few weeks in a strange state of mind. Dealing with death is an odd flood of emotions.
I was sad at Waynes funeral but he had been a childhood friend whom I never really kept in contact with. I was cleaning out some stuff from my mothers house and this big blue trunk had records and papers and comic books in it. I wanted to take the trunk up to my new room and had to empty it to get it up the staircase. As I unloaded a stack of papers out of it a photo fell to the ground. I bent down to pick it up and it was a photo of me and Wayne sitting by a tent when we where about 4-5 years old. I looked at the picture in awe... what are the chances of only that photo falling out of all that paper. I figured it was just Wayne saying good bye to me. Two days later I attended his funeral. Good bye friend.
Mike was a man I had met in a recovery program. We spent about three years together sobering up. We had alot of fun wandering around town after meetings drinking coffee and checking out bookstores for crap. He was into these huge sci-fi fantasy books and read alot because he had spent time in prison and I recon you got alot of time to do that. I don't remember the title or the author of the book series he used to be so passionate about but one day i will find it and read it. We also became good friends in our families. His wife hit it off with my wife and we used to get together and barbque or go swimming at the lake. We even took care of his little daughter when they would work. Mike had another problem in his pocket that was always nagging at him. It ment numerous stints out in the street and at the homeless shelters then again leading to jail or treatment. He certainly had his fair share of chances to get better but those who know the nagging feeling sometimes never recover. I believe it is a disease. He finnally was set free of this world.
I arrived at the church on that rainy day and walked in to be asked to be a pallbearer. It was an honor. My wife and two daughters sat behind his wife and daughter and mom. The church was full of folks i think where regular church goers because Mike and his wife where members of that church. Catholic. A few recovery people where there and a few street people... The minister did his duty and reflected on how he could still see Mike smiling in the seat. The rest of the service was heavy Catholic. It was nice and I do believe there is a all loving father waiting for us when we leave.... Mike has met him now.
I watched his wife and daughter and mom cry and hold each other. Then it was time to carry the coffin. It was a carpeted box with handles. I took my place and stood there. I grabbed the handle with my hand and we lifted. It had a wieght that made my emotions loose all control and my face contorted in the opposite way that you would smile. Tears ran down. HOLY SHIT.... my friend was in there and i wasn't going to get to walk this planet with him again. The lump in my throut was huge. Good bye Mike and i will miss you smile and plans of grandious.
On April 18 1990 my father walked into the shop and stood by the truck i was working on and said Randy, my little brother, was just in an accident. He said he was shot by a police officer. In that brief second i thought wow that's another good accident for Randy to tell. He was always getting in accidents and was a walking scar... Mom has a picture of Randy with one of those dislocated shoulder casts... you know the kind with the bar to your ribcage but what makes the picture the best is his face is all swollen from an allergic reaction to a wasp or black fly attack. Yes accident prone was Randy. I asked Dad if Randy was O.K. from this latest accident. Dad just looked at me and said "He's dead."
I recently attended two funerals for to friends of my age. My friend Wayne died of cancer, and my friend Mike overdosed on drugs. It brought me down and took me back to that horrific day I lost my little brother. I spent a few weeks in a strange state of mind. Dealing with death is an odd flood of emotions.
I was sad at Waynes funeral but he had been a childhood friend whom I never really kept in contact with. I was cleaning out some stuff from my mothers house and this big blue trunk had records and papers and comic books in it. I wanted to take the trunk up to my new room and had to empty it to get it up the staircase. As I unloaded a stack of papers out of it a photo fell to the ground. I bent down to pick it up and it was a photo of me and Wayne sitting by a tent when we where about 4-5 years old. I looked at the picture in awe... what are the chances of only that photo falling out of all that paper. I figured it was just Wayne saying good bye to me. Two days later I attended his funeral. Good bye friend.
Mike was a man I had met in a recovery program. We spent about three years together sobering up. We had alot of fun wandering around town after meetings drinking coffee and checking out bookstores for crap. He was into these huge sci-fi fantasy books and read alot because he had spent time in prison and I recon you got alot of time to do that. I don't remember the title or the author of the book series he used to be so passionate about but one day i will find it and read it. We also became good friends in our families. His wife hit it off with my wife and we used to get together and barbque or go swimming at the lake. We even took care of his little daughter when they would work. Mike had another problem in his pocket that was always nagging at him. It ment numerous stints out in the street and at the homeless shelters then again leading to jail or treatment. He certainly had his fair share of chances to get better but those who know the nagging feeling sometimes never recover. I believe it is a disease. He finnally was set free of this world.
I arrived at the church on that rainy day and walked in to be asked to be a pallbearer. It was an honor. My wife and two daughters sat behind his wife and daughter and mom. The church was full of folks i think where regular church goers because Mike and his wife where members of that church. Catholic. A few recovery people where there and a few street people... The minister did his duty and reflected on how he could still see Mike smiling in the seat. The rest of the service was heavy Catholic. It was nice and I do believe there is a all loving father waiting for us when we leave.... Mike has met him now.
I watched his wife and daughter and mom cry and hold each other. Then it was time to carry the coffin. It was a carpeted box with handles. I took my place and stood there. I grabbed the handle with my hand and we lifted. It had a wieght that made my emotions loose all control and my face contorted in the opposite way that you would smile. Tears ran down. HOLY SHIT.... my friend was in there and i wasn't going to get to walk this planet with him again. The lump in my throut was huge. Good bye Mike and i will miss you smile and plans of grandious.
On April 18 1990 my father walked into the shop and stood by the truck i was working on and said Randy, my little brother, was just in an accident. He said he was shot by a police officer. In that brief second i thought wow that's another good accident for Randy to tell. He was always getting in accidents and was a walking scar... Mom has a picture of Randy with one of those dislocated shoulder casts... you know the kind with the bar to your ribcage but what makes the picture the best is his face is all swollen from an allergic reaction to a wasp or black fly attack. Yes accident prone was Randy. I asked Dad if Randy was O.K. from this latest accident. Dad just looked at me and said "He's dead."
posted by ricky JaK at 2:39 AM
0 comments
