Gone

I had a friend once. He was a very close friend. We shared similar interests. We shared the same brand of humor. We confided in each other. We were brothers.

About three years ago we had a falling out. The reasons why are not relevant. We tried to repair the friendship but the damage was too great. We slowly disassociated ourselves from the other, each indignant at our perceived slights. He has only seen pictures of Baby C. He has never met him. Five months ago my former friend welcomed his second child into this world. A son. I have never seen a picture of him. I have never met him. And I never will.

Life is a cruel and merciless journey fraught with misery, misdeeds, and injustice. Sure, there are good times, but sometimes they can’t outshine the bad. Horrible things happen to good people. There are no reasons why. No justification. Just horrible shit for no other reason than because life says so.

I have had reminder after reminder this past year of how cruel life can be. Tonight, however, I am reminded that I could have it worse. Much, much worse. My former friend’s newborn son passed away in his sleep this past week. Gone. Just like that.

I found out this morning and have been on the verge of tears all day. Tears for a little boy I never knew. Tears for my former friend and the unimaginable heartache he is suffering. Tears for my former friend’s wife, who’s only child is gone. I have put myself in his place off and on throughout the day. How would I feel if one of my children died? I can’t imagine it. The very thought overwhelms me emotionally and I cease to think. I feel…there are no words I can conjure at this moment to describe how I feel. They elude me. My children mean everything to me. Everything. The thought of losing them is my greatest fear and now my former friend is facing that reality. That fear.

I’ve spent the day debating reaching out to my former friend. I debated asking a mutual friend for his email address or phone number. We haven’t spoken in almost three years. In the end I opted to pass my condolences along through the mutual friend. I feel that contacting him would only add to his misery right now and I don’t want to make things any harder for him.

Lee, if by some chance you ever happen to read this, please know that my heart goes out to you and you have my deepest sympathies. I am incredibly sorry for your loss and cannot fathom what you must be going through right now. May your son rest in peace.

Advertisements
About Twindaddy (328 Articles)
Sometimes funny. Sometimes serious. Always genuine.

75 Comments on Gone

  1. That poor family. That kind of grief is enough to really make one stop in their tracks and consider what they’ve been complaining about for the past few days/weeks/months.

    Like

  2. If there is a memorial you should go, or send a note if at all possible. When death comes to someone, the rest just doesn’t matter.

    I’m sorry for your friend’s loss too. How very sad.

    Like

  3. So incredibly tragic. I agree with Elyse. Tragedies like this make everything else seem like nothing. I’m sure your support would mean a lot to him in such a horrible time. Give your kids an extra tight hug tonight. xo

    Like

  4. As I sit here alone downstairs, I hear my two little girls and their friend who is sleeping over tonight making all kinds of noise – joyful noise.

    The coos and sounds of such a miracle as a baby silenced in the blink of an eye, now an infant is cradled in the Arms of the Lord.

    My heart aches for your friend and his family.

    Like

  5. You know I understand that heartache, that pain. Your poor friend and his wife. My suggestion? Send a handwritten card. If there is a viewing, attend. Even if you only go for ten minutes. It’s old friends, those old, great friends people need more than ever in such a tragedy. No matter the circumstances of you no longer being friends. I have forged a new, strong friendship with a girl I knew only slightly in middle school by having a tree planted in her deceased son’s name and sending her a card after her son died during labor. Two years later I call her and her family my family. Hugs, TD.

    Like

    • I’m always afraid of overstepping my bounds. I will think about this, but I don’t want to assume that I would be welcome.

      Like

      • No, I understand that. And you could always be sent away. But, I had a friend I got in a disagreement with. We didn’t speak for a couple of years. Periodically she would send me cards with little notes just saying she was thinking of me, pictures of us, etc. when things got bad last year, after losing Jack, she ended up being the first person I told. I sent her a text saying “I need a friend”. And she’s been there ever since. Knowing that she cared the whole time we weren’t speaking, I knew I could count on her. I don’t know the details of your situation though, it’s just my thought. 😊

        Like

  6. I wish I know. I don’t know if he’d even talk to me.

    Like

  7. I just can’t imagine…

    Like

  8. My heart goes out to that family- losing a child is not like anything else. I think that reaching out to your friend – even via a written letter – would be a good step. I was estranged for several years with a my best friend (over a falling out that I can’t even remember) – and we came together after my son was born and was in the hospital for so long- and I needed her at that time and she was there and the past didn’t matter – it was the present that mattered. My heart to you as well – it’s a struggle to know what to do – your beautiful heart will know when and what is right.

    Like

  9. he will be full of rage and anger, his relationship will be stressed and tortured, he will be numb and then feel too much. his entire world will have shifted and changed in ways our brain can not even start to process because we mentally can not go there. our children are our most precious gift. when they are taken from us, we are lost, bereft, adrift and nothing is ever the same again. it is hard to say how he would react if you reach out to him. if you want to, then send a letter and offer to come back into his life to support him, or simply state your sympathy. you share a past and you share a bond of being a father, even if it was for a short period of time. your children are not promised to you for any length of time…treasure them.

    Like

  10. I’m so sorry. I hope that he happens to read this…at least he will know how you truly feel. ((Twindaddy)).

    Like

  11. Aw no..I’m so sorry to hear this!

    I don’t know what I would do if I lost my kid. I would probably kill myself. I’m constantly on the edge of insanity and something like that, would push me over.

    Like

  12. I saw Revis’ post about this and it has been sitting in the bottom of my heart all day. I didn’t like or comment on his blog because I haven’t really done so before. Such a sad sad thing.

    I think you should reach out to him. Often with the death of loved ones no one knows what to do or say and some people just do nothing. Although you may have differences between you and doing nothing is easy it’s not the right answer. There may be anger and there will be a lot of grief. But it’s nice to let them know you care because you obviously do.

    Be a friend and contact him however you feel comfortable with. And don’t stop contacting him (within reason of course) because he may not be ready to reply but just knowing you are thinking of him might help.

    Like

  13. I’ve ‘liked’ the post, because it was, as ever, beautifully expressed – but the actual subject is horrifying. I only have one son, and the though of losing him, as you said, is indescribably scary. I would not wish the feelings that your friend is going through on anyone in the world. I hope you do reconnect, at least on some level, as I think at a time like this someone needs to know he has friends all over thinking about him. My thoughts and condolences go out to their family.

    Like

  14. The thought of losing one of my children fills me with dread. I have a number of friends that have lost a child, my heart breaks for them everyday, as my heart now breaks for your friend and his wife. If you don’t feel it’s right for you to directly contact him, you could always send a card so he knows you’re thinking of them at this time.

    Like

  15. I can’t imagine what it would be like to loose a child, when my best friend died we just surrounded his mum with all the love we could muster. We were lucky as we had masses of memories and his children to keep us going. I do hope you can mend the rift between you both.

    Like

  16. This is really awful…I don’t know what I would do in that situation either. I understand what you say about not knowing if you can trust your heart, because of the fickleness of our own emotions. Obviously, you still have your former friend’s best interests at heart, and so you are trying to figure out what would hurt your friend less- contact, or no contact. If you were in his position, what would you rather he do? Maybe that’s a way to look at it.

    Like

  17. What a sad, sad story. My heart goes out to your friend and wife. And I used the word friend, not casually, because to me, the fact that you cared enough to empathize, you cared enough to find a way to reach out, you cared enough to write this–those are the actions of a friend, whether or not you are actively pursuing your relationship or not. My 2 cents here: reach out. As someone above posted, death, especially the death of a child, trumps all. It is so overreaching and all encompassing that any other emotion, anger from the past etc., will likely get swallowed up. And when your friend begins to grieve, it can be nothing than helpful to know that he has the well wishes of everyone willing to give them.

    Like

  18. My heart just breaks for this family. If they have a service you should definitely attend. I had the same situation with a friend and I attended her mother’s memorial and she was very glad that I attended. Trust me, your falling out is so far back on the burner right now the only thing Lee will see is your goodness and support.

    Like

  19. It is. It really is.

    Like

  20. These things just suck. I was going to suggest some middle ground and send an email, since it’s one of those ‘consume at your comfort’ ways of communication and not the urgent right-now of a phone call. But I see you did. Hope it turns out well for you.

    Like

  21. You should contact him. At a time like this, you can never have too many friends, or too many shoulders to lean on. Really. Call him.

    Like

  22. Thanks, Ginger.

    Like

  23. I just can’t even imagine.

    Like

  24. I can’t imagine… that’s all the words I have today.

    Like

  25. That poor family….there are are no words.
    I’m so sorry.

    Like

  26. Sometimes, I know its hard to comprehend, but sometimes grief is a blessing that acts as a bridge between two people. I pray you both walk that bridge and meet each other in the middle. My condolences.

    Like

  27. I’m so sorry for your friend twindaddy. I’m glad that you reached out and I hope that he accepts your condolences. These kinds of losses tend to put things into perspective, and I hope that you can find a way to start again.

    Like

Deposit 2 cents here

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: