The Darkest of Days: Never Saying Goodbye (kind of long) (1355 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.92 on 53 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Phoenix <volklcess.at.aol.com> (View user info) at 2004-03-17 11:48:55 EST
I was never anxious about going to high school - I never fretted about the rumors of freshman being stuffed into lockers and garbage cans or other horrific falsities told to make high school seem like a big bad place (although my freshman year of college my friends did duct tape me to a chair and leave me in the boy's bathroom...hmm). Maybe it was because our high school was the only one in town and it was so small that I was already pretty familiar with all the upper classmen. Maybe it was because before I went to it and now, 4 years out of it, it never meant shit to me. Regardless, some friends you make in high school will forever be priceless, while they're here with you and long after they've left this life.
I was merely a freshman, awkward with making new friends, awkward with puberty - I'd left eighth grade short and measly and came back after summer at my full height of 5' 7"; I was trying to stuff my breasts into my old training bras as they'd miraculously swollen over the summer, and I was still getting used to the idea of bleeding once a month. And acne, oh my! Jesus, I'm glad I'm not in my early teens anymore. I still had all my friends from middle school, when we were big bad eighth graders and we ruled the school. But here we were, 14 and once again feeding with the bottom suckers.
The first time I met Ted, I was standing out front of the school waiting for my bus, twiddling my thumbs, thinking about how I needed to make some friends who had cars so I wouldn't have to do this riding the bus shit anymore. He was shorter than me, with a smiling slightly chubby face, and obviously very shy. He silently walked up to me and shoved into my hands a single long-stem rose, saying only, "Here, I think you should have this." With that he ran off, disappearing behind the building, leaving me to wonder what in the world had just happened.
He started calling me for no reason - picking up the phone just to let me know that he was thinking of me; or to ask me to go look at the moon because it was so beautiful that particular night. Had normal circumstances allowed, his odd advances would've given me the creeps. Prior to the day I was handed a rose, I'd never even known his name, but there was something about Ted that separated him from everyone else; be it that he was always smiling no matter what, or the way his eyes nervously darted around when he talked to you, or maybe it was just that he couldn't come across as anything other than charmingly innocent. Ted had a lust for life that was contagious - he was the person who always took time to stop and smell the roses, the person who found beauty in everything; he loved his life and he never tried to hide that fact. He emitted a glow that was undeniable.
He suddenly emerged full force in my life - one day he had handed me a rose and the next we were the best of friends. We were as different as night and day - Ted was an actor, a thespian, a performer; I, on the other hand, was preppy and trendy. Nonetheless, we were two peas in a pod; we were inseparable.
We shared everything: our dreams, our hopes, our aspirations...well, almost everything.
The first time I ever went to his house I was surprised to find his room littered with the kind of medical equipment reserved for a hospital: breathing machines, pumps, knick knacks far beyond my understanding. I hated to think that all this equipment was for the vibrant young man who I called my best friend. How could it be that someone who loved life so much could come home every night and hook up to machines that assisted his breathing?
"What is this?" I reluctantly asked; I thought I understood everything there was to understand about this life; I liked to believe that I was wise for my 14 years as all teenagers do. But this I couldn't grasp - or I didn't want to.
"I was born with a disease called cystic fibrosis," he told me.
Cystic Fibrosis is a genetic disease; if both your parents are carriers, there's no stopping it. On any given day your lungs naturally cleanse themselves of dirt and debris and other nasty airborne particles you may inhale. People with cystic fibrosis, however, have an extra build up of mucus on their lungs causing the crap you inhale in your daily routine to become lodged in your lungs. There are, of course, other symptoms those with cystic fibrosis suffer from, but mainly it makes it difficult to breathe.
"The doctors said I was supposed to die when I was 4-years old," he says with a certain amount of fervor. He was 16 at that point - a good deal beyond his life expectation of four.
"You mean, this is something you're going to die from?" I still refused to fully grasp what it was I was hearing. I understood completely, but I didn't want to.
"Well, eventually. Everyone dies."
I never let my new knowledge of my friend's life threatening disease damper our friendship. We had one of those unbreakable bonds; I remember staying on the phone with him till the wee hours of the morning, listening to the almost inaudible hiss of the machines surrounding him from through the line. I loved my friend dearly and would've given anything for what he was born with to be taken away from him, for there to be no pain, for there to be no machines.
In June of 1998, Ted graduated high school, and due to his medical condition went no further than the University of Nevada, Reno so that he could be close to home. He loved college, thrived on the energy that surrounded him, and it suited him well because he was absolutely brilliant; he wanted to be an engineer and would've made a damn good one.
Unfortunately his stay at college was extremely short-lived when the worsening condition of his disease sent him to a hospital in Oakland where he could receive the necessary care that his circumstances required. He hated being in the hospital. He hated not being able to inhale deeply the breath which is life - all that he had in the hospital was beeping machines, taupe-colored walls, and the lingering sense of death.
The few times I talked to him during his stay, he often expressed his distaste of being hospitalized; he despised it when he had to be bed down in a stingy hospital bed for long periods of time, but he told me he'd probably be coming home soon. He told me he was getting better.
The last thing he ever said to me was, "I hate it here so much. I miss you, Erika." If I had known that would be the last time I ever talked to my best friend, I wonder if I would've said anything differently? I wonder if I could've told him anything he didn't already know.
It was fairly late on an October night, almost a month after my 16th birthday, when I received the phone call. A phone rings differently when the person on the other end harbors bad news: it's more insistent. It was my friend Aaron who called; his voice was hesitant. He sounded far away, tinny. Or maybe that's just how it is when it replays in my mind.
"Erika, Ted died last night."
I didn't say anything right away. It's hard to let it sink in when someone's telling you that your best friend of more than 2 years isn't going to be around anymore; it wasn't easy to understand that I'd never hear his voice again, hear his laugh, spend long hours on the phone with him, mock ridiculous movies with him. I'd never see him again. It's not easy to accept the news that your best friend is dead.
And after my moments of silence, when the meaning of those words hit me with full force, I let the phone drop from my hand, and I let loose what I was feeling inside me with a blood curdling scream. My heart was tearing itself apart violently within me as I sank to the floor, tears streaming down my face. And that one word, ripping through my mind at an alarming rate, always to remain unanswered: Why?
I didn't understand death then, and I don't pretend to understand it now. I knew that Ted wouldn't live forever; I knew that he'd die eventually. Everyone dies. But I didn't think he'd die when he was only 18. I enamored myself with thoughts of Ted living a long happy life, accomplishing everything he ever wanted to accomplish. And to this day, almost 6 years after his death, I still miss him dearly. I still cry when I think about him. There are some things you never get over. You just learn to live with them. Or without them.
User Reviews
Submitted by volklcess (user info) at 2004-04-13 18:21:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
ubersucks - It saddens me what a petty person you are. No, I don't care that you ruined my perfect rating because a perfect rating isn't what I was after with this post. I really truly hope that something extremely terrible happens to you.
:-(
Phoenix
Submitted by ubersucks (user info) at 2004-04-09 14:51:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
wtf im not reading all that!
Submitted by DeathJester (user info) at 2004-04-08 09:27:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
There's a good reason why this is the best article...
It is.
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2004-04-06 08:16:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i won't spoil your perfect rating, and i'm sorry for your loss
but i HAVE to say some of the writing here is just dreadful. cliched and innappropriate use of language abounds.
Submitted by Scott_James (user info) at 2004-04-06 00:07:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by The.Masked.Assailant (user info) at 2004-04-05 23:54:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i used to be ratings-breaker for the mere sake of being a jerk, i am that person no more.
life is short and love is forever so live for love
Submitted by chipolatte (user info) at 2004-03-24 03:19:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Thunderlips (user info) at 2004-03-17 11:54:06 (#)
Ranking: 2
When the Hulkster gets to heaven, we'll tag up again.
------------
That's the funniest thing I've read in a while.
You said you've never gotten over it. That's not healthy. Accept things as they come, because in the long run it'll drive you nuts. Still, I see what you're getting at, you wily old gal.
I feel sorry for the ole' chap, but at least you made his life happier, right? Take comfort in that.
Submitted by DJMattB241 (user info) at 2004-03-22 22:47:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
oh god. sigh. why did i have to read this right now?
Submitted by CowTipper (user info) at 2004-03-22 22:11:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow. I'm speachless.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-03-22 15:35:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Amazing.
Submitted by Tom (user info) at 2004-03-22 15:18:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Loren1 (user info) at 2004-03-22 14:14:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by sublime (user info) at 2004-03-22 14:06:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
FUCK YOU PERFECT RATING!!! FUCK YOU!!!
ah crap what am i saying
Submitted by volklcess (user info) at 2004-03-19 11:17:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Nobb (user info) at 2004-03-18 03:42:34 (#)
Ranking: 2
To many sad stories goddamit.
Is that you with him in the photo?
-------------------
That's a picture of me when I was 15.
Submitted by Tastycat (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:49:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Touching.
Submitted by GreenRiver (user info) at 2004-03-18 19:56:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by mikethescottish (user info) at 2004-03-18 17:43:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
One of the most affecting things that I have read on Uber... and I don't get affected by much. Highly impressive.
Submitted by LacyFace16 (user info) at 2004-03-18 10:33:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i have no words to express....
...you are wonderful, erika.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2004-03-18 07:54:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Beautifully written, and affected me deeply. Very nicely done. Thank you.
Submitted by Fleadh (user info) at 2004-03-18 07:16:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome writing, brought tears to my eyes.
C
Submitted by Falco (user info) at 2004-03-18 04:02:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
The Chick in the picture is hot +2
Submitted by Nobb (user info) at 2004-03-18 03:42:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
To many sad stories goddamit.
Is that you with him in the photo?
Submitted by maiorano84 (user info) at 2004-03-17 22:37:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I love you, I want you, I need you, oh baby oh baby.
Submitted by dakingisdead (user info) at 2004-03-17 21:36:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Phoenix. That was a very hard post to read withtears in my eyes.
As you get older you will find more and more people you love will pass on.
It never gets any easier and always there is left a little hole in ones heart.
The thing though is to look at your life and approach it as did Ted.
Fully and completely!
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2004-03-17 20:59:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Lyric (user info) at 2004-03-17 19:29:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ohlookasquirrel (user info) at 2004-03-17 18:45:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I Almost cried there.
Submitted by spedmonkey (user info) at 2004-03-17 18:13:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
im very sorry... sorry to use a cliche, but it is always difficult to lose friends
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2004-03-17 17:49:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by SpecialKR4 (user info) at 2004-03-17 16:55:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Thank you for sharing.
Submitted by Zod (user info) at 2004-03-17 14:38:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I've never lost a true friend, so I can't even pretend to imagine how you feel.
Submitted by MoonLover (user info) at 2004-03-17 14:33:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
And now, I must make a phone call to MY best friend...you know, the only person I've ever met in my life who comes close to being my "soul mate".
I just wish he didn't move away.
Brilliant. Thank you for that reminder.
Submitted by Razor (user info) at 2004-03-17 14:07:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Submitted by shag_rat (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:45:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I cried...
Submitted by beer-turtle (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:44:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Make me cry damn you...
sucks when we lose people that brighten our lives
some more than others
-Turtle
Submitted by smokymtcsw (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:41:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
The only time Thunderlips has made a comment I liked. This story was very moving. I am glad you got the chance to love someone that special, I do not think there was anything else you could have told him that he did not know.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:26:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Herpes (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:26:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I've got nothing too.
Submitted by Deisangua (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:24:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
Submitted by Nicole3 (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:23:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
crap, that should be "14" not "14m". He was a teenager.
Submitted by Nicole3 (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:19:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
One of my uncles died of CF when he was 14m which was considered a long lifespan for someone with CF at the time. If both parents have the gene, there is a 1 in four chance that their child will have the disease, a 2 in 4 chance that their child will be a carrier of the gene but not exhibit symptoms and a 1 in 4 chance that they will not even be a carrier. Estimates are that 1 in 20 Americans is a carrier. The medical community is thinking about recommending routine screening for the gene in couples who want to have children. I was tested and am not a carrier, thankfully, though I still make sure and donate money to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation every year. Ask about the screening before deciding to have children, please.
Submitted by Mr-Boo (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:09:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sorry -My heart goes out *TO* you.
Submitted by Mr-Boo (user info) at 2004-03-17 13:08:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Phoenix, my heart goes out you.
Submitted by hendrixjrr (user info) at 2004-03-17 12:29:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment Needed.
Submitted by K.M (user info) at 2004-03-17 12:16:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2004-03-17 12:16:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Bénissez-moi, mon Père, pour moi prends sinned. J'ai ai adoré trop profondément et admission volée à votre ciel avec la mort de cet homme. C'est le voyage et pas l'extrémité qui nous place libres. Je suis laissé avec mes pieds sur votre sol et mes mains dans le sien.
Goodbye is the hardest word in any language.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I have loved too deeply and stolen admission into your heaven with the death of this man. It is the journey and not the end that sets us free. I am left with my feet on your soil and my hands in his."
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2004-03-17 12:15:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
you made me cry
i'm so sorry
Submitted by PukingDog (user info) at 2004-03-17 12:10:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sorry.
Submitted by Ainkara (user info) at 2004-03-17 12:04:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by shark25 (user info) at 2004-03-17 12:03:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very nice writing. Good work.
Submitted by w00twhat (user info) at 2004-03-17 11:58:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
:(
Submitted by Thunderlips (user info) at 2004-03-17 11:54:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
When the Hulkster gets to heaven, we'll tag up again.
Submitted by reallybored (user info) at 2004-03-17 11:53:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I got nothing.