There’s a lesson in the rain that change will always come
Let us ride this wave and then greet the sun
And though the ground may shake and we’ll think
We’ve had enough
We must raise our flags for the ones we love.
I received some tragic news that someone very important to me – who shall remain unnamed in respect to the family’s wishes for privacy to mourn – had passed away due to a congenital heart condition. I can’t express the devastation and continuous heartache I feel over this loss. Even now I still cannot believe that what happened has truly come to pass. I continue to feel at a loss for words, unable to provide comfort for others that share this loss with me. In the most horrible ways, the past days have felt surreal and despite my wish each morning that none of this ever happened, it is a reality that I have grave difficulty accepting and coping with. Unable to bring myself to fully get back into my regular routine, I felt that it was important for me to help come to terms with the tragedy that has happened in a way that I have always took comfort in.
I am neither a religious/spiritual person nor a scientific one, yet I am given explanations from both ends of the spectrum. God decided/It was his time. His heart just gave out; the structure was simply too weak. And yet none of these explanations seem fair. We still react irrationally to these answers. We mourn. We regret the things that happened and the things we failed to take opportunity to do. We question authorities and demand for answers that could put us at ease. And despite that I never had a firm belief in higher powers or in an afterlife, I trust that he is in a place of rest with no worries of a heart condition, medication, and all the other despair that he suffered in his last months.
For the rest of us, yes, I am fully aware that life goes on; things will eventually get better; time heals all wounds, etc. etc. But until that time comes I know the best way for us to cope is to fill our thoughts with only the good memories.
I got the chance to really get to know him in a group project for a class. It was one of those “turn to the person next to you” set-ups and I had my skepticism and concerns at first. My skepticism was really premature, based on trivial things like the topics of conversation he started with me before lectures; the fact that he always sat at the end of the row – making me scoot across him to get to the seat on his other side – even though he knew that was where I wanted to sit so that I could leave right at the end of class to rush across campus for my next location; and also that on certain days it appeared as though he hadn’t had a shower in days. In truth I had some of the best times working on that project with him. It took us nearly two weeks to realize that his name wasn’t Gabriel and mine wasn’t Carmen. Despite that we met up frequently with the intention of getting our research going, most of our time was spent hanging in and around downtown, with none of the work being completed until the last few hours before the due date. From then on it was only one great memory after another.
There are a lot of things that I’ll miss about him; things that I’m grateful to him for; things he did simply so that I’d smile:
· Communication wasn’t our forte and a lot of misunderstanding could have been avoided if he only understood sarcasm but it did let me get away with making him believe some ridiculous stories and explanations. A simpleton at heart with no room for anything unless it involved direct speech.
· He didn’t think reading was the best hobby and most of the time he thought male characters from stories were real people that I were infatuated with, especially when he came in halfway through conversations. Made him a little paranoid thinking I was into so many guys at once but it was just too funny to ever correct him right away.
· It didn’t take a lot to put him in a good mood: skipping class to go surfing instead; $5 haircuts; messing with the playlists on my Ipod; dissing rap music and particularly hating on Kanye West; hockey game nights (spending all that effort to explain the rules to me again and again and never getting upset when I forget them all before the next game); introducing me to all those emotional, mellow, cheesy indie musicians; thinking it manly to like said-musicians; being able to make all the calls on how to spend the day; impromptu Taylor Swift singing; pointing out to me for two weeks how my new haircut looked like his; cheap wing nights; going out dancing and for me realizing you were actually good at it;
· Cooking abilities that were beyond questionable but he never was scared to experiment. Salsa and peanut butter sandwiches. Burrito mix pancakes. BBQs in the winter where he grilled meat seasoned with unconventional toppings. He’d tell me a full man was a happy man but that a college student budget couldn’t afford him to be a picky eater. Even though he just wanted to make me home cooked meals, most of the time I thought he was trying to give me food poisoning but watching him in the kitchen was always a laugh. He still let me drag him to eat out 95% of the time. He had an appetite and I’ll never forget when he asked if the 8oz steak could be substituted as a side dish with his order of ribs.
· There were a lot of things I got him to do even though he resisted in the beginning: reading a lot of my book recommendations, throwing away his beanie that looked like road kill, wearing scarves as a trendy male accessory, window shopping, letting me drive, getting a Facebook account even though you failed to use it because you constantly forgot your password, following my time zone for when we called each other, and taking that taxi at nearly 4am out of downtown that time we were in the States or else who knows what would have happened that night. For that and so much more, I’m thankful.
· He was so supportive of my writing and always encouraged me to pursue it. I don’t know what he ever saw in it, but he was relentless in his encouragement. We had plans for me to be a penniless writer while he made money for the both of us as a pigeon-feed seller down on beach boardwalks in southern California – well at least until I became a NY Times Bestseller he’d say. We spent a lot of rainy days with him forcing me to sit in front of my laptop while he made me hot beverages and played Adele to help get my creativity going. He never failed to remind me to at least keep trying and that if all else failed, we could at least act it all out in a 2-person, 8-part YouTube videos. He’ll never realize how much his support alone meant to me. Even in his absence he managed to give me back my writing as a gift.
He was a traditionalist and a sappy romantic. He was pig-headed and hard to convince otherwise when he was wrong, He was a son, a brother, and a great friend to those who knew him. He’ll always be remembered for his kindness, his selflessness, his charisma that attracted everyone to just want to be around him and have a good time. He had a lot of plans for his future: get his medical license, take over his father's clinic, get married, have children and see to it they all became professional hockey players. We’ll never understand why someone so beautiful couldn’t stay with us a little longer but I know I count myself as blessed to have spent time with you at all.
He was someone very special to me.
I love you so much and I’ll miss you more than I could ever say.
R.I.P.
Homeward the new road meanders
Washed out the old road as to what did I bring
Flowers, a verse about springtime
Perchance in the treeline she’s waiting for me.
Homeward these shoes worn to paper
Thin as the reason I left here so young
Homeward and what if I see her
There in the doorway I walked away from
White house asleep on the hillside
Firm as a habit I struggled to shed
Homeward with heaven above me
Old road behind me, a door up ahead.
