Offense - 4 Deaths

This post is about something that has affected my life last year, in what was one of the few years that I actually recall what had happened. I don't say that like I'm some fucking drug-addict and every year is a blur... But, realistically, how often do you equate your experiences to the year they happened in? I remember clearly driving to Florida for vacation a few years ago, but i couldn't tell you without some serious calculation what year it actually was... 2008 will be forever remembered to me as the year of Four Deaths, and I will tell the story of why it is significant to me.

2008 was a BAD year... Economy was in the toilet, worried about losing my job, marriage falling apart... and four people I knew died in very different ways. The first was Jacob, a friend of mine from work. It was May 30th when I got the news. I was on vacation that week, and I got a text message saying I needed to call in to work for something important. I called my friend Angie, and she told me very directly "Um... dude... Jacob is dead." I was sitting in my moms driveway at the time, on my way to have dinner... and I couldn't move. People say things like "I was stunned!" or "My blood ran cold" or some shit like that... i just... COULDN'T... move. "What." i said in a total deadpan. "He killed himself last night", she told me. "I wanted to call you and tell you, so you didn't find out on Monday when you got back." I sat in Mom's driveway in silence for about a half an hour, before going in and telling her about the phone call I just had. I couldn't think of anything to do or say about it. It was what it was, no take-backs. Jacob was THE most upbeat person at the office. Everyday, he would walk by my desk and go "Helloooo!" with a big goofy smile, and we all loved that. His car would break down, and he would come in to work and say "Well, the alternator needs rebuilt. WEEE!!" and just laugh.

And then... he died. I had noticed a change in him at around the beginning of the year, but i didn't know anything about his personal life, and wasn't going to pry. I found out later that his wife had left him around that time. I'm not going to say some shit like "Oh, if only I had said something!" and blame myself for it... HE made the decision to cease living, and playing the 'coulda, woulda, shoulda' game is a waste of time and emotion. But, his death is the one that i find myself reliving the most out of the four... the one that is perhaps the most senseless. Jacobs suicide has had a lot to do with many of the choices I've made in the last year... because to me, while Jacob chose to die, I choose to live. I never did find out how he did it...

The second death of 2008 is that of my then Father-in-law, Bob. He was a good man, with some serious health problems caused, in my opinion, by a life too close to the edge for too long. He loved and helped everyone he came into contact with... even people who had ripped him off time and time again, he still helped them. And then, his wife died in 2006. His world died with her. It took two long, painful years for him to finally follow her, but he did. In the meantime, he all but ignored his old friends and family, his grandkids, his own health... He was rushed to the ER so many times during that period where they had to literally bring him back to life... and he would just sign himself out, call a ride home, and start the cycle all over again. Bob's death is as much of a suicide to me as Jacob's... both men found life too difficult to continue. Both made the choice to quit. I was the second person to witness his death; his girlfriend at the time draped over him, bawling, because her golden ticket had finally expired. I genuinely admired the man; but his giving up like that disgusts me to this day...

Death number three was surprisingly the easiest for me to handle, being that it was the only one that was a direct relative of mine. My grandmother, Murlene, (White Grandmaw we used to call her) was the toughest old bitch that ever put on boots and walked the land. She was 89 at the time of her death... Up until she broke her hip the first time in 2004, she used to mow her own lawn with a push mower EVERY week. I swear, she knew EVERYTHING there is to know about birds, plants, genealogy... She had like 30 grandchildren, and she remembered each one's birthday, as well as her kids' spouses, and her neighbors! Although she was my Dad's mom, she was my mom's best friend. She broke her hip for the second time in mid-October. She told the doctor at the time "If the surgery doesn't go well, just let me lie," and she signed a paper giving her wishes. The surgery actually went fine... but during recovery, she developed pneumonia, and spent over a week in hospice on pain killers. At first, i was upset that they were just letting her lay there in bed and basically starve to death... it just seemed cruel, no matter what her wishes were. Now I realize she was tired, and was going out on HER terms. On the outside, this seems similar to the first two deaths... but White Grandmaw had lived a good long time, and had earned that last rest. It is more like an honorable surrender to a superior opponent, than a cowardly bowing out, out of fear.

The last death is the one least connected with me personally, but was the hardest to handle. Eden was 8 years old. Of these four, she was the only one who wanted to live. She had been living with the utter debilitating pain of lymphoma her ENTIRE life... and yet, life was still too sweet for her to surrender it. I had only met her once, when she was 4 or 5, and bald because of the chemotherapy she was constantly under. Eden was as lively as any of the other kids, and totally unafraid to romp and play. Thinking about it now, I can barely stand to write the rest of this... but I will. It is important.

Her death was on December 27th... two days after the best Christmas she had ever had. They had let her grow her hair out for the previous few months, her parents having already been given the news that she had lost the fight. She dyed it pink, just because she could. She got everything that was ever made for Hannah Montana, and screamed like a maniac when she opened each one. She died at home. In her father's arms.

The funeral was January 1st, 2009. It was THE most soul-crushing event I've ever been to. There were probably 300 people at the church. I remember Jim Ganahl giving a speech about the first time he met Eden, at Red, White and Boom in 2006. I remember the high school cheerleaders, in tears, telling about making her an honorary member of their squad. I remember the tiny 7 year old girl, a cancer survivor and friend of Eden, saying very clearly into the microphone through her tears "I love you Eden, and I miss you." And yet, the worst part, was the song at the end. I don't know the singer, but the song was called "Don't tell me if I'm dying." Her mother, surprisingly serene and calm through the entire presentation, told us the story of the first time she had heard that song. She and Eden were riding in the car, and Eden said "Mommy, turn this song up!" She sang every word. Her mother had to pull over for 10 minutes because she was crying so hard. I remember seeing her tiny, still form lying in the casket.

SO... (wiping away the tears) why drag myself through this again? Because, it is important. Of these four well-loved people, only ONE of them wanted to live. So many people in this world give up on life... while others hang onto it tooth and nail, and have it stripped away. Forget all of your problems. Forget all of your religion and politics. Forget all of your insecurities, your obsessions, your doubts. LIVE. LOVE. FIGHT. Fight until the blood runs free from your veins, then fight some more. Let nothing stand in your way. I saw pictures from all over the country with Eden shaking hands with President Bush, Alan Jackson, Jim Ganahl, throwing the first pitch at baseball games, dropping the puck at hockey... she packed as much experience into her life as she possibly could. Of these fallen friends, I choose to take her example... the others will remain forever in my memory, as fuel for the fury that will sustain me.


The Angry Man