Death and forgiveness

Warning: Long post ahead

I am a firm believer that everything that happens in your life is meant to teach you something. It may be a major event, the worst or best day of your life, or something that does not make sense until decades later.

This last week was very emotionally trying for a lot of people. Death is difficult for anyone to deal with -- the ultimate unknown and finale in a life that you want to keep forever. When it happens suddenly and seemingly without reason to a person who seemed so happy, so talented, so fun -- it seems impossible to rationalize. You begin to hear that person's voice in your head, remember the last time you spoke, become tempted to call him just on the slight chance he'll answer, wonder what you could have done to stop him from making his final decision.

This last week I spoke with and hugged people I had not seen in 17 years, Death brings people together, reminds you to tell people you care about them, It makes you question your own mortality and reminds you to never take anything for granted.

Everyone has a mortal enemy, someone whom they'd wish would just fall off the face of the planet. Mine happens to be, ironically, the best friend of the person whose death brought everyone together. This person, who shall remain nameless here, was obnoxious, arrogant, spoiled and just all around mean. He made his dislike for me very well known. Whoever made up the phrase "sticks and stones . . " was never publicly degraded nearly everyday for four years.

He never really did give me a good reason for hating me, though I know that a large part of it was the fact that I was a little different, I wore Marilyn Manson shirts and put blue streaks in my hair (back then putting color in your hair was not cool), and he, being very, very LDS, thought that meant I was a devil worshipper and should be made to feel as inferior as possible. I don't think he knew that I am actually, technically  LDS, it's just not something that I bring up in typical conversation.

Words left unsaid

It is hard to describe how I’m feeling right now. Sometimes I just need to pour my thoughts out onto a page with no rhyme or reason. It does not have to make sense, I just have to have this release. It is the best therapy I’ve found thus far.

The last few days seem to have stood still, or perhaps I’ve been asleep and I’m about to wake up. There’s a numbness that I can’t seem to shake. An old high school classmate decided to leave this earth last week. We were not really friends in school, but we did not dislike each other either, we just spun in different circles. He was artistic, I remember that about him, and he was a class clown, always making people laugh and just generally being a goofball. He got along with everybody because he was nice to everybody.

He became a very talented artist. He had a unique style and method that I’d not seen before or since. A couple of years ago he emailed me and asked if I would write a news story about him to try to get a sponsorship to exhibit at the Eastern Idaho State Fair. I agreed to write a story, but told him that I had to focus on his art rather than the sponsorship.

We chatted by phone, it was great to sort of catch up. I interviewed him, got to pick his brain a bit and ask him about his inspiration. I don’t know if he liked the article, I never heard, but that year at the state fair I did stop by his booth to chat and watch him paint.

His death is stinging more than it should, I know. It’s not like we were best friends. I wrote “happy birthday” on his Facebook timeline every year, I watched the time lapsed videos he made to show his paintings come together.