Originally posted on 8/28/2009
Current mood: grateful
Category: Friends
Tuesday night was one
of the most restless nights I've had in a good long while. If the dogs weren't
scratching on my bedroom door every hour on the hour, there would be some other
home emergency that needed my immediate attention 2 seconds after I'd lay my
head down for the night. Tossing and turning, neck cricks and general sleep
exhaustion monopolized my night and continued on through my morning. Just getting in the car for work, my car alarm goes off at
5AM and blasts through my quiet neighborhood as I scramble to find the alarm
switch...which took more time than usual. Even on my way to work yesterday, nothing went right. Every
obscure traffic light connected to some all-but-unused side street (at 5AM),
impeded my progress in getting to work at a descent time. Work Wednesday wasn't
going to be good and almost everything that happened several hours before,
suggested...no, commanded it. That morning had all the
makings of a 'surprise layoff' or some other mind-muddling event. Then around 9:30AM, I get an e-mail from my supervisor
telling everyone that a friend of mine had suddenly died the night before. How
could this be? It had to be some cruelly tasteless joke or a mindless mistake. I
mean, I'd just recently reconnected with him after a few years apart and it was
like he'd never even left. In fact, I'd just hung out with him not too long ago and
still had tons of video of that night that I hadn't even gotten to make into a
prized ChaunyShort Production yet. He'd just been making fun of me on
Facebook for not being a team player and playing 'hooky' for the last 2 times
we'd planned to do something together. I'd even gotten word that he'd actually
been chatting with a co-worker on Facebook just a few hours before this
happened. This can't be, it just can't. Yesterday and today was filled
with uncontrollable bouts of spontaneous crying spells and general disbelief. It
was almost like I was physically there, doing things but my mind and heart
were in another place entirely. It was an emotional out-of-body experience that
I'm sure most of us have had at one time or another. Frankly, it's just now
beginning to really sink in and boy does it ever hurt like hell. After getting that news yesterday, I didn't even bother to
put on make-up or attempt to look presentable, which was it's own tragedy, more
so for my co-workers than me since they're the ones that had to look at me.
I wished I'd gone out with him the last time he asked me to.
I wished I had tried harder to stay continuously connected. It was just last
weekend that sis told me that the next time we all did Co-worker Karaoke again,
we would have to go. Like so many of us erroneously assume, I thought to myself,
'there's time.' But that's not always true, is it? On my way to work this morning was more of the same sad and
simultaneously catatonic disbelief. I thought about all the stuff he and I talked about when I
saw him last. He recalled almost everything I'd ever told him about my mother.
They are both Aquarius and he did so many
things like her, in a very creative and pleasantly odd way. I remembered all of
the crazy stuff he'd say and the hilarious, true stories he would
share. One Halloween we'd both dressed up as Willy Wonka, he was
the newer "Johnny Depp" version and I was the older "Gene Wilder" version and I
remembered taking tons of pictures with him like we were stars being hounded by
the paparazzi. It was an absolutely wonderful and singular experience. I recently recalled,
even before learning of his passing yesterday, the last thing he said
after we'd all gone up to sing as a group for karaoke (including him). After the very last note was sung, the very first thing he
said was, "Man, you guys suck!" As if he
wasn't a part of the collective calamity. That was just him. That was the way he was. I can say, not as
some insincere gesture after the fact, but with great love and sincerity
that he was original, hilarious and a fantastic person to know. After attempting
to pull myself out of my pitiful state of perpetual mourning (which I still
haven't done), I really appreciate just how truly blessed I am to have known
him, to really have known him. I have so many wonderful stories and experiences to share
with people that didn't have the supreme pleasure of knowing him personally.
Some people will never know how kind and wonderful he was and that makes me even
sadder than knowing he isn't here anymore. Well, almost as sad. Thankfully,
I'm not one of those people and I know my life is much richer for it. A
good co-worker friend of mine reminded me this very morning of how grateful she
is to have reconnected with him and she reminded of how grateful I should be
too...she's absolutely right and I absolutely am. Profoundly. (Thanks
Annette!) When I have the strength and courage to go through the video
footage of my last night with him, that sis lovingly filmed for us, I'll put
together a short video and attach it to this entry. I can't quite do that yet
though. You may be asking yourself, what's the moral of this sad and
tragic tale of woe? (Because there's usually a moral). It's simply this;
make memories. No one knows when their time on earth is through
and we really have no control over that anyway. But we can control
the way we make use of the time we do have. Making wonderful memories is firmly
within our control and we should all make good use of it. And when our time here is over, we'll hopefully leave a
lasting and loving legacy that will long outlive our delicate earthly bodies. No
matter how helpless and sad I feel right now, knowing that is like a warm
security blanket quietly protecting me from all of the harsh realities of those
scary things I do not yet know. And that's no small thing. My deepest hope for you is that you practice and refine the
great art of memory-making. In a world of so much selfishness, sorrow and
uncertainty, it should be comforting to know that treasured memories are
something that no one or thing can ever take from you. My magnificent memories are all mine for all eternity and
I'll guard them with lasting love, vivid vigilance and glimmering gratefulness.
I'm not much for telling folks what to do, but I truly think you should do the
same.
°°
In
direct contrast to William Shakespeare's quote, What’s in a
name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as
sweet, I submit to you that
in the case of David Rose, A Rose
by any other name, is just not the same.
Dedicated to the fabulous David Rose (never EVER refer to him as "Dave")
January 23, 1966 - August 25, 2009
♥ You will be sorely missed and never forgotten ♥
Dedicated to the fabulous David Rose (never EVER refer to him as "Dave")
January 23, 1966 - August 25, 2009
♥ You will be sorely missed and never forgotten ♥
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