Sad day. Goodbye friend

Today after waking up, I went downstairs as I normally do, with a stretch, yawn and a certain wonder concerning today activities. My casual smile faded as my father told me the news that a close family friend passed away last night.

For much of my life I have been able to distance myself from death, through luck or geographical distance. My grandparents are no longer with us but I was either too young or not very close to them for it to have much an affect on me. Now I just deal with uncertainty that comes with not knowing where I come from. I have known many people to pass but none were very close for me to feel that sudden sledge hammer to the chest, the boulder on the shoulders and the drop of the head that would be similar to a spinning top that has stopped revolving. Plainly, finding out this news really sucked. I freely admit, I had to stop myself from crying.

Death never comes easy. I have always felt bad when death arrives at a friend's door. When a parent, grandparent, classmate or a casual chum loses someone important to them. You have to be a cold son of a bitch to not feel something sad for their loss. But for myself, death never really hit this close to home and this shot was still off target. Until now the great deaths in my life are people I never knew. I was sad when Paul Newman, Johnny Cash, and Joe Strummer died. I feel a bit of sadness knowing that I never got to take part in the lives of John Lennon, Martin Luther King or Bob Marley; people who died before I was born and before their time.

Death is an ugly thing that all of us are forced to accept as a daily part of life. Fortunately, acceptance does not mean allegiance.

I am simply sad. Lincoln was the only adult of my parent's age group that I felt comfortable calling by first name. He was my dentist for a time. I, being around the same age as some of his children used to spend Easter Sundays with his family, participating in egg hunts as his family fed me baskets of chocolate. I have known him and his family for 20 some years but many of my memories are of him the past couple of years. Memories of afternoons with him or going to family lunches. He had a curiosity for my life, the way an uncle cares for his nephew. Last year he bought me a milk shake at local shop after oral surgery. He was quick to tell stories, jokes and comments that at times may seemed silly, inappropriate or awkward but that simply added to his charm. It really did. He could recall tons of dirty jokes. I can't recall any even though that doesn't stop me from trying to tell some with the punchline falling flat. He was a very affectionate person who never shied away from a hug and I was never too embarrassed to give him one. We often spoke of family. He spoke of my parents love for me, his love for his family and what a great joy it would be for me that one day I would have a family of my own.

I know this hurts. I cannot imagine what my father must feel as the two have known each other for more than 30 years. I simply cannot imagine that what so ever. I'd hate to lose any of my friends 30 years from now and not feel incredibly selfish. Death is a selfish thing in some ways as we don't want to lose the joy our friends or family bring to us. I cannot imagine what his family must feel. It's gloomy to think that one day I will be in a similar situation that I cannot avoid or bargain my way around.

I don't know. All I can hope for is perspective and that Lincoln is in a better place where happiness is in abundance.





"we'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when.
but I'll know we'll meet again, some sunny day.

Keep smiling through , Just like you always do,
Till the blue skies chase those dark clouds, far away. "
- Vera Lynn