Sunday, June 15, 2014


If you go back a couple of blog posts, you'll get an idea of where this was before.
 There's not much more I can say about it that I haven't said in the previous post.
This post isn't really about this piece of furniture.
 I lost a childhood friend last week.
It's one thing if you lose someone because they got eaten by a shark or a piano fell on their head. For some reason, a freak accidental death is easier to stomach, because we're not forced to think about it. It's an open and shut case.
 This death was a result of many years of pain, and self medicating.
The really sad part is that no one had a chance to help. How do you help someone that is smiling on the outside and screaming on the inside?
 I always attempt to challenge death. By that I don't mean that I suddenly take up tight rope walking or Evel Kinevel my ass over the Grand Canyon.
 What I mean is that I try to walk away from a death with something. Think about it, if someone close to you dies and you're only left with loss, then death wins. If you're able to learn from it, to become a better, maybe healthier person, then you have stolen from deaths pockets.
 In my case, I stole an old friend back.
There was a group of us as kids that all ran around like wild animals. The group started with me and the recently departed, and evolved into a large conglomerate of city kids from all kinds of racial and social backgrounds.These relationships were birthed in our formative years, and what happens in those years stays with you your entire life.
 After some time, people start branching out on their journey to self discovery. Some friendships remain tight, and some become more loose.
 I was probably the first to branch out. I started playing in bands and going on tour, so my ties to the neighborhood wolf pack became more distant. I left my neighborhood at a pretty early age, but a lot of the other  wolfs didn't, and so their bonds remained tight.
 Over the next 20 plus years, I would bump into these wolves at events, or gas stations, or grocery stores, and you'd get a quick 5 minute run down of where people are at in life, and then in the blink of an eye, you're right back into your own life, and that's that.
 The morning of my friends wake, I turned into the fucking Cat in the Hat. "I cannot see you in a box, nor your ashes in a pot" "I cannot see you lying there, I'll fucking lose it, this I swear".
 I didn't go to the wake. I went to work. I finished this table. It calmed my soul.
Saturday morning, I woke up in a funk. I needed to say good bye to my friend.
 I decided to take my son to the park that we all congregated at as kids, and walk past the house that my friend lived in.
 That afternoon, I got a text from one of the guys that ran with the pack. I told him my plan, and he met me there.
 My son played in the park, and me and John, talked and talked and talked and talked, uninterrupted by my son, which is very, very strange.
 There was a moment during that conversation that I realized that although death had taken one friend from me, it had also given an old one back to me.
 On the car ride home, my son said "Da-da, I made a friend at the park" and I said "I did too son...I did too".

No comments:

Post a Comment