We will all perform this rite of passage from life to death. Whether there is or is not another side upon transition, we always live in the memory of the ones we leave behind. We have no control over death, but we can influence how we are remembered.
When I realized I had double booked tonight between KTK and Top Comments I was pretty frustrated. This has been a terrible week since Sunday and it left me wanting to hide in bed and cry. Then I realized that these two community diaries are effectively my online home; safe places where lighthearted and politics alike can se set aside for personal reflection and social support.
Tonight at Kitchen Table Kibitzing I offer up a silent Memorium as a means to acknowledge and offer prayers, thoughts, hopes and reflections of the loss of my best friend's nephew in a horrific and totally avoidable car wreck this past weekend in PNW at the age of 29.
Here at Top Comments I would like to offer the story itself, told with an eye toward protecting the privacy of the family while offering enough detail to illustrate the event, contextualize the grief and draw upon the larger questions of why we take the risks in life we do.
Consider this a trigger warning if you have a hard time with death, grief, car accidents and devastating injury.
Also, it probably wouldn't b e too difficult for some people to figure out who and where this happened. Some reader may even live in the area or even have been on or near the scene. If that is the case, please exercise discretion out of respect for the privacy of the family. Thank you.
Join me over the used kleenex for more...
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I first met my soul brother J in middle school. He was a scrawny, wiry and sullen kid who took a lot of crap from the school bullies. He was in 6th grade and I was in 7th, and we became fast friends through a shared cynicism, unhappiness and rebelliousness that included a love for drugs and alcohol. J comes from a Jehovah's Witness family and that particular brand of mind fuck was starting to show as a thin spot on his psyche and his soul. Fro my part, I was angry in general about a dysfunctional family, the move to Houston from the Farm and a manner of other family issues and their subsequent deep scars. We were both troubled, angry and willing to say "fuck the world", and we did just that.
And while those early days were restricted mostly to school (because he was restricted at home through JW control), our relationship was cemented when I, much bigger and far stronger than he (and completely unafraid to fight and to lose a fight) laid waste to his tormenter bully in front of the entire school on the bus ramp while waiting for the busses after school.
His bully, a fat, stupid and mean little prick, had been a terrible presence for many people gong on at least a year and when J told me the latest aggression I decided to to end it for everyone. I approached him, smiling, and asked if he wanted to bully me. He bucked up and when he did I punched him very, very heard in the nose and broke it, audibly, with a crack. To make sure my point stuck, I punched his hands that covered his face and nose. The sight of the blood that had pooled in his cupped palms splashing backward across the face and past his head in a spray of red mist was enough to leave an impression on everyone. After agreeing that he wanted no more, and that he understood the "Why" of my actions, I walked away and the kid never bothered anyone again. From then on J and I have been the closest of friends. My best friend.
Over the years through High School and beyond that deepened. We became part of one another's families, shared houses, shared our kids and generally are the one person for each other who is ultimately reliable, no matter what, no questions asked. It is as deep as it gets without blood, and maybe deeper.
So when he texted me Monday evening as I sat watching my son's band performance, it was a major blow to read these words move across my phone:
Nephew Jack died in a car accident last night.
Holy shit. How? I cant talk, only text.
Acid and booze. Hit an embankment and rolled 150 ft down. Jack was thrown clear of the car from the backseat, no seatbelt. A witness on the scene was a doctor, saw Jack draw his last breath. He was unconscious. Friend driving in critical condition, not expected to make it. Other passenger hurt expected to live.
Some of the worst news to get, a needless, senseless tragedy. Something that could have been prevented by not getting all fucked up on booze and LSD(!!!) then driving around super fast on windy, wet PNW roads late at night. By wearing a seatbelt. By not carrying a cavalier death wish as Jack seemed to do. J was devastated and numb. Grief had not set in.
I was numb and in shock. I knew Jack from when he was a baby, J's sister's child and a beautiful smart, kind boy throughout his childhood and into adolescence and adulthood. He was a sensitive soul and a damaged person, for the sundry reasons people are. Hoe is never perfect, some are more than others. Our spiritual and emotional needs are often shaped and defined by the pain we carry and the origins of that pain. Peoples lives, upbringings are circumstances are complex and the impacts they have on how we turn out are at once unpredictable yet often leave hints and traces along the way of what to expect if one is paying attention.
Early use of drugs and alcohol were a pretty good indicator of where Jack was headed and how he might deal with his personal pain and demons. That's a story I and many others here are familiar with first hand. It's a story that has a multiplicity of potential endings and outcomes, many bad, some chronic, some ultimately redeemed, and every manner of outcome in between. There simply is no telling the future of that person, though statistically the odds are stacked against us.
Late Sunday night Jack and his friends had been partying with booze. At some point someone thought it was a good idea to drop acid. They got behind the wheel headed for wherever with Jack in the back seat unrestrained. Coming around a curve rated at 20MPH, on wet roads, the car veered across the line and over the guardrail, tumbling down a steep 150ft embankment and landing at the base of someones home.
Neighbors immediately responded to the fire and to help asses and triage the occupants. Jack had been thrown a half dozen yards as the car rolled, the centrifugal force ejecting him as his door opened. As you read above, he died on the scene under care of a doctor who lived nearby and could do nothing for him.
At this point everyone remains in shock, except his parents and younger sister, who are in full fledged grief. my buddy J is headed down there now to be with his sister and niece. His own young kids, very close to their cousins, will remain behind until the funeral.
I feel kind of bad bringing this here tonight because so often what we all need in this space is something lighter to help decompress and take the edge off our days. But as I say, it' a safe place for us and a place, like KTK, that I feel comfortable and welcome in sharing the bad when it comes as well as the good, the political, the humor and the asinine. It's a great feeling to be able to count on friends to understand that sometimes, when the chips are down, room can be given to vent, grieve, ask for help or just simply cry in print.
My heart is broken tonight, and a really, truly appreciate you all being here to help me express that.
And now, what everyone has been waiting for, it's the tops...
TOP PHOTOS
May 19, 2015
Enjoy jotter's wonderful PictureQuilt™ below. Just click on the picture and it will magically take you to the comment that features that photo. Have fun, Kossacks!
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