I don’t know how I got onto the subject but the other day I was driving home and I realised that I’ve never had someone close to me die yet. Don’t get me wrong, I know people who’ve died, I’ve had relatives and classmates and teachers and family friends die. But they weren’t someone I spend my days with, who I’ve grown up with, that I’ve had the opportunity to really get to know.
I haven’t had someone really close to me go and I’m not sure how I’m going to handle it. I don’t know how people do it when they lose a beloved parent, sibling, family member, friend, partner. I don’t see myself coping well. But I can’t say either way, because as of yet it hasn’t happened. I don’t want it to for many years to come, but I know that I will have to face it sometime. That's the way life goes.
My Pop (dad’s dad) died when I was about 7 or 8, and I have very few memories of him apart from photos. I have memories of him in his shed, making toy trucks and dollhouses for his grandchildren. But he never had the chance to know any of us, not really.
Then there’s Darcy. A classmate. An acquaintance. Both of us would never have considered the other a good friend. We never had the opportunity to. I remember getting mad at him once in high school. Before there was anything wrong. Or before we found out there was anything wrong. It was lunchtime. He was sitting with all of his friends at the chairs looking out over the oval. I was sitting with Jenny on the footpath in the shade outside the windows of the IT rooms. You remember where I mean? Anyway. He and Andrew Wat were being complete dicks, throwing stones and shit at us and I completely lost my shit. I remember getting up, stomping over there and yelling right in Darcy’s face. He promptly said sorry and he was nice to be from then on...he may have avoided me for a while but he was always nice after that.
Casey’s step-dad Phil. He was hilarious. He was nice, he joked around, he was a big kid. Knew him for maybe a year before he passed. He was always fun whenever he picked up the phone calling for Casey. I thought he was great when I saw the ‘Jenny St’ sign in their house. He’d stolen it for Casey’s mum. That he would get her a street-sign of her name. Yes, theft impressed me. I couldn’t believe that he was dead when I saw their family photo on the news. It was right after New Years’ Eve, days before his birthday.
Nicole. My God-father’s daughter. That was one of the worst feelings. I was about 15 at the time. I remember staying at Lau and Jen’s house and mum rang me early in the morning, telling me that Nicole had died. I’d grown up with her, known her my whole life. We were babies together, I felt numb. I’ll try to get the story right. She’d broken her leg and the cast had been put on too tight. She fainted at home and the ambulance came. Took the cast off. They said she’d be fine and left. She had a blood-clot and it moved to her heart. She had a heart attack and died. Found out later that she’s actually had a stroke, not fainted in the first place.
I’ve made myself slightly depressed now, because death is a fucking bitch of a thing. It can bring salvation, it can end pain and agony – and it can also cause it.
I can’t imagine my life without the people that matter most. I don’t want to either. If I could die first, that would be fine be me, because then I won’t have to go on missing them every day. That’s a selfish thought, because I know that at least...5 or 6 people will miss me, but it means I won’t have to miss them. I don’t want to have to. But the pattern of life will continue and end in the same way it always has. I will enjoy the time I have with people, and hope that I don’t have to worry about things for quite a few years to come...
Unless you really piss me off, then I have no issue with sending you to your maker :)
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