Erich was buried yesterday in Salt Lake City. We awoke to quite a bit of snow on the ground and snow still falling. It seemed fitting for Erich, who loved skiing. We drove to the soccer shop where Erich used to work.
How many countless hours of time did we spend chatting while we were both "working"? It was good to see where you were and what you were complaining about.
Waiting in the "viewing" room for the funeral to start was like torture. Trying desperately to hold composure. Dock tries to comfort me, and I tell him to leave me alone. Face the wall and read the sign "Let Virtue Garnish Thy Thoughts Unceasingly; then shall thy Confidence Wax Strong in the presence of God" over and over again, focusing on the words to make the tears stop flowing. Deep, slow, deliberate breaths. Who am I to be crying? I was such a small part of your life. If Chad isn't crying, if your brother isn't crying, what right do I have to cry? And then I look at the closed casket, and everything inside me wants to open it and hug you just one more time cuz you were such a good hugger. And the tears flow again. I'm hiding behind Josh. I pretend to inspect the program thoroughly, and my eyes wander back up to the ever-present sign, "Let Virtue Garnish Thy Thoughts Unceasingly; then shall thy Confidence Wax Strong in the presence of God." It comforts me. I'm swallowing my breaths, pay a visit to the Ladies' room to allow myself a few seconds of silent sobs and then there's cold water splashing into my eyes. Paper towel dabbing my face. Composure.
I go into the church. I don't sit with the rest of LeMed, not because I want to distance myself, but because it'll just be harder. So I sit and I try to sing the hymn but the sob catches in my throat. I mouth the words but no sound comes out. I listen to Chad speak with such dignity and control it amazes me. He is, indeed, your best friend. I say a quick prayer that I never have to do that at Kyung's funeral. Your cousin reads blogs as I nod my head, remembering that we chatted on those days that you were blogging about. Remembering my recommendations and our similar issues of childhood memories. They roll your casket out and it's time to head to the cemetery.
It's freezing. We're standing around your casket outside. My socks are wet, and I cannot feel my toes. My legs involuntarily shake from the cold. Joe reads the long string of eulogies written by LeMedders. I laugh when he actually reads "I forgive you for not washing my sheets." I laugh because I know you are laughing, too -- happy that something dirty was said at your funeral. They give you your military rites. I'm watching your mother watching them fold the flag. I look over at Chip. I think this is not the son your mother was expecting to get a flag for. Chip is looking at what he thought would be him. Chad is standing at attention the entire time they fold. They hand your mother the flag.
I place my hand briefly on the casket. I had wanted to do it at the viewing but didn't want to draw any attention. I don't know why -- perhaps I thought I would feel you through the wood even though I know you're not really there. Now, there are so many hands on the casket, mine gets lost among the crowd. Your father says "I still don't believe he's in there," to which Christa replies "it [the casket] is too short." Corny hugs me. I push away the tears as I turn to face the tree. I look back towards the covered area, and I see someone hugging Chad who is crying, and it breaks my heart. I want to go over and hug him, but realize we've never met. It would not be comforting for him. My heart goes out to him. I can only painfully imagine what he's going through.
We go back to the church for a lunch. We joke and tease each other endlessly. We debate on whether or not to send the controller back to Cinco. We say goodbye to your mom. When I hug her, I tell her to take care of herself. For some reason, it brings it all back. I walk away to the bathroom again -- my respite. I can't stay in the building anymore, so Josh and I go outside to the car.
The sun is shining through finally. It's beautiful. I have to go back to the cemetery. Josh gets out of the car, and I tell them I'll be right back. I drive to the cemetery, my car slides across the ice. I walk slowly over to the place. I guess I have to see if they did it. There it is. This patch of freshly laid sod. It looks strange against the rest of the snow-covered ground. It seems absurd that they even laid it. The sod will not take in the soon to be frozen earth. I lay my hand on it, and the ground gives a bit: the dirt below falling into place around the box they've put your casket in. The ground is so cold. I think about your body in the cold ground, and it takes everything in me to not start digging you out. To hold your body against mine to be warm, to not be alone. I know it's just your body. I know it is. You've always been so fragile to me though. I can't take it. I say "I'm sorry, Erich." And I walk away, back to my car, back to the church to pick up Mike and Erik.
It still hasn't sunk in. I still think that I will see your smile, hear your laugh, hug you, tease you, laugh at you... again. Perhaps someday I will. For now, I know it will randomly hit me, and the tears will well up. Over time, this will probably stop. I will never see your purty face or that smile again. Your name will forever be light gray in my AIM list. We will have no more conversations. You will no longer play devil's advocate just to get a rise out of me. You will not tell me that I can do it, or that I should do it. You will not tell me anything directly. BUT my life, my decisions will be influenced by your example. You will live on through all of us because you shone that brightly in your life. Spreadable Erich.
"You will never walk alone." None of us will.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
Dying Happy
I received this strange text this past Saturday night. It said something like "rukh and tifa had a home invasion and rukh is doing poorly."
Rukh is, as silly as it may sound to you, a friend that I met playing Halo online. Okay, you're asking yourself how much of a friend could he be. A real one. It's hard to explain, but this small group of people who gather to play this silly game together somehow, over the course of a year or two have become a family. We gathered in San Francisco, in Albuquerque, in LA, in Portland, in Salt Lake City. We talk to each other all day on the computer, and we call each other. And Erich (aka Rukh) would always write when he was confused or unhappy or needing to chat or needing love. Rukh flew out to LA for one day once, just to go see a movie with me (and to surprise Miss Kimmy). LOL How ridiculous is that? But that's what our friendship was. Lovely.
Not too long ago, Erich found a girl that he loved, and so our communication lessened. I was a little worried, but very happy for him. As long as I knew him, even though he would never admit it, all he wanted was to fall in love and have that person love him back as much as he loved her. He wanted to get out of SLC. He did just that. He took a LEAP and proposed to this girl the first time they physically met. He moved across the country to be with her. He got what he had longed for for soooo long.
Two days ago, while he was sleeping, this girl's ex-husband broke into their house and beat Erich to near death with a "blunt object" (I believe it was a pipe). This is what that text message was referring to. "Rukh and tifa had a home invasion and rukh is doing poorly." I don't know what I was thinking when I got that. I was confused and thinking it had something to do with video games. Then I got another text from someone else saying "erich and tifa were hurt in a home invasion." This one clicked, but still I was thinking they were robbed and beat up or something. For a second it crossed my mind that perhaps he was shot. I wrote back, asking if he was okay. "He is in serious condition." I soon learned that this guy had broken into their home and stabbed erich with a blunt object. Even then, I went out to a roller derby, enjoying my night -- concerned about Erich but knowing that he was going to be okay.
It's crazy because when I first learned about it, I had this eery peace about it. I had two thoughts -- I hope the guy didn't mess up his face. Erich is sooooo beautiful. I know that is completely shallow, but his outside beauty is just as much a part of his inside beauty. It's part of who he is, and it's something that we talked about all the time -- how pretty he was (he hated it).
My second thought was that if he dies, at least he'll die happy. Even though I didn't know the extent of his injuries, that was my thought. At least he'll die happy. All he wanted was love and to get out, and he did both those things. And the last time I talked with him, he was telling me that he was adjusting, figuring things out in this new place. I could tell he was happy -- he just "sounded" different than any other time I'd talked to him at home. I think it was hope. He was happy and hopeful. We talked about his wedding, and I complained that he was making me go to ANOTHER wedding. haha And then, we stopped chatting -- I was at work and he was just hanging out. It wasn't a big deal -- we fade in and out of conversations all the time. And he's always online (via his phone). So I would talk to him again soon. One would think that I would have learned by now to not take life for granted.
It wasn't until yesterday afternoon that I learned he was on life support. That I learned that he wasn't stabbed, that he was beaten over the head with a blunt object. And I couldn't picture Erich defending himself. I'm sure he tried, but in my head, knowing Erich and how non-violent he is, it was the equivalent of a man beating a small child.
I got a text this morning saying that he didn't make it. I asked when it happened. My friend said Saturday, they were keeping him alive until his brother got there to say goodbye. They are pulling the plug on him today. And everyone is posting things online, saying that he's dead, that he didn't make it. And I want to scream at everyone telling them to stop saying that. He ISN'T dead YET! I won't say that. I won't say that he's dead. I don't care what medicine or science says. He's going to breathe on his own when they pull the plug. We're due for a miracle. I won't quit on him before he's gone. I won't grieve for him before he's gone. He is going to wake up when they pull the plug, and I will thank God for the miracle.
I told you he was pretty. I love you, Erich!
Rukh is, as silly as it may sound to you, a friend that I met playing Halo online. Okay, you're asking yourself how much of a friend could he be. A real one. It's hard to explain, but this small group of people who gather to play this silly game together somehow, over the course of a year or two have become a family. We gathered in San Francisco, in Albuquerque, in LA, in Portland, in Salt Lake City. We talk to each other all day on the computer, and we call each other. And Erich (aka Rukh) would always write when he was confused or unhappy or needing to chat or needing love. Rukh flew out to LA for one day once, just to go see a movie with me (and to surprise Miss Kimmy). LOL How ridiculous is that? But that's what our friendship was. Lovely.
Not too long ago, Erich found a girl that he loved, and so our communication lessened. I was a little worried, but very happy for him. As long as I knew him, even though he would never admit it, all he wanted was to fall in love and have that person love him back as much as he loved her. He wanted to get out of SLC. He did just that. He took a LEAP and proposed to this girl the first time they physically met. He moved across the country to be with her. He got what he had longed for for soooo long.
Two days ago, while he was sleeping, this girl's ex-husband broke into their house and beat Erich to near death with a "blunt object" (I believe it was a pipe). This is what that text message was referring to. "Rukh and tifa had a home invasion and rukh is doing poorly." I don't know what I was thinking when I got that. I was confused and thinking it had something to do with video games. Then I got another text from someone else saying "erich and tifa were hurt in a home invasion." This one clicked, but still I was thinking they were robbed and beat up or something. For a second it crossed my mind that perhaps he was shot. I wrote back, asking if he was okay. "He is in serious condition." I soon learned that this guy had broken into their home and stabbed erich with a blunt object. Even then, I went out to a roller derby, enjoying my night -- concerned about Erich but knowing that he was going to be okay.
It's crazy because when I first learned about it, I had this eery peace about it. I had two thoughts -- I hope the guy didn't mess up his face. Erich is sooooo beautiful. I know that is completely shallow, but his outside beauty is just as much a part of his inside beauty. It's part of who he is, and it's something that we talked about all the time -- how pretty he was (he hated it).
My second thought was that if he dies, at least he'll die happy. Even though I didn't know the extent of his injuries, that was my thought. At least he'll die happy. All he wanted was love and to get out, and he did both those things. And the last time I talked with him, he was telling me that he was adjusting, figuring things out in this new place. I could tell he was happy -- he just "sounded" different than any other time I'd talked to him at home. I think it was hope. He was happy and hopeful. We talked about his wedding, and I complained that he was making me go to ANOTHER wedding. haha And then, we stopped chatting -- I was at work and he was just hanging out. It wasn't a big deal -- we fade in and out of conversations all the time. And he's always online (via his phone). So I would talk to him again soon. One would think that I would have learned by now to not take life for granted.
It wasn't until yesterday afternoon that I learned he was on life support. That I learned that he wasn't stabbed, that he was beaten over the head with a blunt object. And I couldn't picture Erich defending himself. I'm sure he tried, but in my head, knowing Erich and how non-violent he is, it was the equivalent of a man beating a small child.
I got a text this morning saying that he didn't make it. I asked when it happened. My friend said Saturday, they were keeping him alive until his brother got there to say goodbye. They are pulling the plug on him today. And everyone is posting things online, saying that he's dead, that he didn't make it. And I want to scream at everyone telling them to stop saying that. He ISN'T dead YET! I won't say that. I won't say that he's dead. I don't care what medicine or science says. He's going to breathe on his own when they pull the plug. We're due for a miracle. I won't quit on him before he's gone. I won't grieve for him before he's gone. He is going to wake up when they pull the plug, and I will thank God for the miracle.
I told you he was pretty. I love you, Erich!
Monday, November 05, 2007
Letting go...
Usually, not knowing where I stand with a person drives me INSANE. Seriously -- it makes me crazy, takes over my mind. This time everything is different. It started the same way, and then I just decided that it didn't matter -- that I was better off either way, and I've never felt so free.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Community Service
So I was driving along the highway (freeway if you're from Cali) the other day and along the side of the road was a group of community service kids. It got me thinking. Here's my idea for a community service reform. Right now, they do things like clean the side of roads and stuff. While that has it's place, and it is a job no one else really wants to do, but does it actually teach these people anything. It's a mindless task that, while annoying, doesn't really require anything from them other than time. They walk away having done "their time" but not learning anything from it.
So here's my suggestion.
People who get assigned community service have to come up with a community service project to improve their actual community (or possbily the one the offended to get th punishment). Think about it though -- it makes them use their brains and it makes them own their punishment. They actually have to invest something of themselves into it. Now, there are definite things that would need to be figured out with this. Like each person coming up with their own project may be a little too much, but that's easily solved by creating teams of people that have community service. These teams would, of course, have to get their project approved by someone who works for the city. Someone who can say, that's a good idea, or that's not good enough. Even if it is just them cleaning up a specific area of their community, at least it is their community. And like, let's say they decide to clean up a park -- well then they can actually rehab the park versus just picking up garbage. Or creating a community garden or something. The possibilities are endless. They have to create it, make it happen, own it and hopefully learn from it.
Hmmm... maybe I should figure out who my alderman is.
So here's my suggestion.
People who get assigned community service have to come up with a community service project to improve their actual community (or possbily the one the offended to get th punishment). Think about it though -- it makes them use their brains and it makes them own their punishment. They actually have to invest something of themselves into it. Now, there are definite things that would need to be figured out with this. Like each person coming up with their own project may be a little too much, but that's easily solved by creating teams of people that have community service. These teams would, of course, have to get their project approved by someone who works for the city. Someone who can say, that's a good idea, or that's not good enough. Even if it is just them cleaning up a specific area of their community, at least it is their community. And like, let's say they decide to clean up a park -- well then they can actually rehab the park versus just picking up garbage. Or creating a community garden or something. The possibilities are endless. They have to create it, make it happen, own it and hopefully learn from it.
Hmmm... maybe I should figure out who my alderman is.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Homeless... again. Le Sigh
So my best friend and roomate is moving back to Chicago. For six years or so, she tried to get me to move out to LA. I finally did, and now, a year later, she's moving back to Chicago. Funny how these things work out. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe we're just not supposed to be together. Perhaps we count on each other too much, so we don't push ourselves enough. Does that make sense?
Anyway, we had this home, and I left it and was so looking forward to returning only to find out that it's gone again. I'm leaving my cheap, cheap apartment to stay at my sister's for a bit. And then??? Who knows. Everyone keeps asking what I'm going to do now, and I really have nothing to tell them. I had some ideas, and then I read VELVET ELVIS, and it's shaken my existence. I have to reread it so I can figure some stuffs out.
So, I'm headed into the unknown once again. It's all very exciting, but also kind of exhausting, too. I kind of just want to chill for a while and put my soul at peace with no pressure from myself to do more, more, more. I guess that's me just being lazy. I'm tired of my soul being weary. I want some rest.
Anyway, we had this home, and I left it and was so looking forward to returning only to find out that it's gone again. I'm leaving my cheap, cheap apartment to stay at my sister's for a bit. And then??? Who knows. Everyone keeps asking what I'm going to do now, and I really have nothing to tell them. I had some ideas, and then I read VELVET ELVIS, and it's shaken my existence. I have to reread it so I can figure some stuffs out.
So, I'm headed into the unknown once again. It's all very exciting, but also kind of exhausting, too. I kind of just want to chill for a while and put my soul at peace with no pressure from myself to do more, more, more. I guess that's me just being lazy. I'm tired of my soul being weary. I want some rest.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Coming home...
with mixed emotions!
Again, life is just charging forward, and I'm finding it difficult if next to impossible to catch up.
It's funny -- I had all these grand plans to blog this whole time away, and here is my very first one in five months, and it is two days before I fly back home. I'm such a slacker.
Rohan, if you're reading this (which I think you are the only one who knows I have this blog -- did I tell you? or did you find me?), I'm sorry, but I'm not staying in London. I won't be able to meet up with you this time. I NEED to get home. I can't really even explain it, but I do. I promise though, we will meet soon!
These five months... wow! It's been amazing and fun and hard and everything all wrapped into one. I will be more specific once I get home and can post some real blogs. It has been a weird ride though!
I STILL have no idea what I'm doing or going to do though! HAHAHA! I had these ideas that all seemed like they were great, and then I read Velvet Elvis and stuff happened with Kyung and now I'm back to square one, full of indecision and confusion. One would think I may have things a little more figured out as I approach my 30th. I think I had more stuff settled when I was 21. This year is going to be crazy amazing!
"I need this old dream to breakdown."
Again, life is just charging forward, and I'm finding it difficult if next to impossible to catch up.
It's funny -- I had all these grand plans to blog this whole time away, and here is my very first one in five months, and it is two days before I fly back home. I'm such a slacker.
Rohan, if you're reading this (which I think you are the only one who knows I have this blog -- did I tell you? or did you find me?), I'm sorry, but I'm not staying in London. I won't be able to meet up with you this time. I NEED to get home. I can't really even explain it, but I do. I promise though, we will meet soon!
These five months... wow! It's been amazing and fun and hard and everything all wrapped into one. I will be more specific once I get home and can post some real blogs. It has been a weird ride though!
I STILL have no idea what I'm doing or going to do though! HAHAHA! I had these ideas that all seemed like they were great, and then I read Velvet Elvis and stuff happened with Kyung and now I'm back to square one, full of indecision and confusion. One would think I may have things a little more figured out as I approach my 30th. I think I had more stuff settled when I was 21. This year is going to be crazy amazing!
"I need this old dream to breakdown."
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