Thursday, March 31, 2016
Monday, March 14, 2016
Bear...
When the boy was young and in Middle School he wanted to play the drums. For Christmas he wanted a drum kit.
Being the smart parents that we were, we told him he had to learn how to play drums before we got him a kit.
So he went out and joined the school percussion session a week later. I was so proud of him.
He seemed to enjoy being part of the band and I have to say, he was pretty damn good at the sticks.
When he moved up to High School, he was invited to join the marching band. He is not necessarily an out-going person, so I was surprised that he actually went to a meeting on his own.
The best thing happened at that meeting.
He met an out-going kid who literally pulled the Boy under his wing and introduced him to other like-minded kids. It was wonderful.
Willie and I called the group, "The Dudes." They would travel in a pack and for nearly 2 years they would show up every weekend and camp out at our house. There was not a weekend that went by that I didn't have at least one of the Dudes sleep over. We fed these hollow-legged young men and welcomed them into our home.
In return they would tell us about their days, friends, troubles, and mischief. They were all well-behaved (even though they all had a twinkle in their eye) and kind. Exactly the kind of friends that you want for your child.
Each person brought a different aspect to the group. All unique and I love them all for different reasons.
One kid we called "Bear." He was huge compared to me with a beard in High School. He was quiet and kind. He would blush when I would talk directly to him and was always willing to give or get a hug.
His brother would often travel with him, so they came as a set. The more the merrier we would say.
When the Bear came home from college, he always managed to come and visit. Tell us about what he was up to.
When he graduated from college he moved away. He landed a job that he wished for and excelled at. We were so happy and proud of him.
We got that awful news this weekend about his death. So unexpected and terrible.
My heart breaks for his parents, his brother, his friends, my son.
It's the first death of a friend that the Boy has experienced.
Some of his friends we have jokingly predicted to be taken out by mishap - misdemeanor gone wrong type of accident, or perhaps a misadventure. Not by their own hand.
I couldn't sleep last night. I kept waking up thinking about Bears family and the horror they must be going through. I kept thinking about my boy and how he's dealing with all this grown-up crap. I keep thanking God that he's alright and that he still has the Dudes to lean on.
I'm angry for Bear doing this. Something so permanent for someone so young. I feel guilty for getting angry. I'm sad that he felt this was his only way out. Then I want to smack him all over again and give him a hug. It's a vicious emotional circle.
A spark of sunshine has left the world and I hate it, damn it.
Being the smart parents that we were, we told him he had to learn how to play drums before we got him a kit.
So he went out and joined the school percussion session a week later. I was so proud of him.
He seemed to enjoy being part of the band and I have to say, he was pretty damn good at the sticks.
When he moved up to High School, he was invited to join the marching band. He is not necessarily an out-going person, so I was surprised that he actually went to a meeting on his own.
The best thing happened at that meeting.
He met an out-going kid who literally pulled the Boy under his wing and introduced him to other like-minded kids. It was wonderful.
Willie and I called the group, "The Dudes." They would travel in a pack and for nearly 2 years they would show up every weekend and camp out at our house. There was not a weekend that went by that I didn't have at least one of the Dudes sleep over. We fed these hollow-legged young men and welcomed them into our home.
In return they would tell us about their days, friends, troubles, and mischief. They were all well-behaved (even though they all had a twinkle in their eye) and kind. Exactly the kind of friends that you want for your child.
Each person brought a different aspect to the group. All unique and I love them all for different reasons.
One kid we called "Bear." He was huge compared to me with a beard in High School. He was quiet and kind. He would blush when I would talk directly to him and was always willing to give or get a hug.
His brother would often travel with him, so they came as a set. The more the merrier we would say.
When the Bear came home from college, he always managed to come and visit. Tell us about what he was up to.
When he graduated from college he moved away. He landed a job that he wished for and excelled at. We were so happy and proud of him.
We got that awful news this weekend about his death. So unexpected and terrible.
My heart breaks for his parents, his brother, his friends, my son.
It's the first death of a friend that the Boy has experienced.
Some of his friends we have jokingly predicted to be taken out by mishap - misdemeanor gone wrong type of accident, or perhaps a misadventure. Not by their own hand.
I couldn't sleep last night. I kept waking up thinking about Bears family and the horror they must be going through. I kept thinking about my boy and how he's dealing with all this grown-up crap. I keep thanking God that he's alright and that he still has the Dudes to lean on.
I'm angry for Bear doing this. Something so permanent for someone so young. I feel guilty for getting angry. I'm sad that he felt this was his only way out. Then I want to smack him all over again and give him a hug. It's a vicious emotional circle.
A spark of sunshine has left the world and I hate it, damn it.
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