I often have to inform people that I’m not quite affected the same way other people are by death. I mean, it’s true. When I look at people who have left my life, those that have left involuntarily through death tend to hurt far less than those that just up and leave because they chose to go. Unfortunately, though, sometimes that’s not the full story. Sometimes a death hurts worse, but just in a far different way.
Once upon a time, I had a really amazing friend. I kept him all through high school and beyond. We stayed close friends for decades. Phil was one of the few friends I had that visited me when I moved 1500+ miles away from my hometown, and he was the only person to have done it twice, and that includes my parents, which if you have read the blog, you know that’s a whole other issue….
Phil was the best man at my wedding, and the only one of my friends that visited here in my new home with my wife, and he did it multiple times. We went to concerts together, ate some of the best food, and truly had an amazing time. I still miss him coming to visit, it was a real highlight.
For those that know me, they know that I enjoy talking. My wife often jests about the time we first started talking, about how our conversations would burn long into the night, and she would go to sleep on the phone with me. It’s just who I am. At the time, I chatted with a few friends online, I had several people to talk to, each kind of falling into a niche. Some of my friends I wouldn’t talk to for ages, then have a quick chat. Either way, I tried to make sure that all my talks with my friends were deep and substantive. I truly enjoy that kind of thing.
Phil, though, would send me meme after meme, quote after quote. This was far before TikTok and I’m sure many of the memes had some reference to something going on in his life, but there was never any context. When I’d try to discuss it with him, I never knew how to approach the subject matter he was trying to represent. It was awkward and the memes just kept coming.
The thing is, Phil and I had a ton in common. He was (probably might still be) a programmer. I enjoy the hell out of tech. I always wanted to talk with him about code, but he never seemed to want to. It was like he equated coding with his job and wanted to stay away from it. I am a huge gamer, he was at one time. He ended up getting on a health kick and walking away from video games altogether. It was one less connection we’d have.
One day I tried to point out the fact that I sometimes enjoyed the memes but would rather have a conversation. And he exploded. He took offense, compared my comment to one of the rude people in our lives that we really didn’t care for, and simply walked out of my life never to be seen again. This left me with a void that I could only fill with anger and shock. To this day I still can’t believe he took such offense to such a small statement, especially when my intent was that I wanted a deeper connection than memes that I had no context for.
I met Jim later in life, while in college with my wife. Jim was the same(ish) age as my wife and I and we instantly found a bond over tons of mutual things. Jim held a PhD and challenged me in my nerdiness to really embrace everything that I loved. We had deep conversations and we could talk about literally anything, from conspiracy theories to some of the most amazing scientific discoveries.
There is a point I’m going to put here because I don’t know where else to put it because it really doesn’t fit anywhere. Phil and Jim, their friendship with me overlapped. There is a txt thread that has me and both of them in it. It is full of meme after meme after meme posted by Phil. I honestly haven’t spent the time to scroll to the top of it to see what the text thread originally started as. It probably started because some of the times Phil visited he joined our D&D group.
Speaking of Dungeons and Dragons, I got back into it when I was in college. I dungeon mastered for a few groups and they were great, but it was hard to hold them all together. But then Jim joined. We took it to the next level. We actually used a mirror and created a contraption to put on an overhead projector to project our map onto the table. That’s how enthusiastic we both were about the hobby. And it made me jump in fully. When I created maps and stories, he was the one I thought about trying to impress. He was the one always most impressed….
I got my wife into Legos. I knew Jim enjoyed Legos as well. There were many a moment we’d build something together and my wife would say, “Take a picture and send it to Jim.” One such set was the Lego Millennium Falcon. The big one. We enjoy Lego sets so much we got the light kits. One of the joys was being able to invite Jim down to help install that light kit. You see, after building that monstrosity, my wife didn’t want to have to take parts of it back apart and then put them back together. I don’t blame her, that set was a work of art. Jim came down and helped put that light kit in, and vicariously, it was like he got to help build one of his favorite Lego sets. It now sits above me and to the left, just in my peripheral vision.
I talked daily with Jim about everything. Computer issues and programming issues. We had a course that we bought on Udemy we were going to take together. I introduced him to tv shows and movies, he did the same with me. I even shared tons of the creative process of writing with him. During the D&D game, sure, some of the players take notes, but Jim took extensive notes. He drew pictures, colorized the spines, and really embellished them as keepsakes he was cherishing.
During the night of April 11th, or the early morning of April 12th, Jim passed away in his sleep. Our last conversation, if you can call it that, was about how part of my computer died. The D&D campaign hit a new map that I was so excited for him to see, another player snuck ahead and saw it and brought the description back to the rest of the party, Jim never got to see it himself. Besides my wife, Jim would be the one I’d have to talk to about what I’m feeling right now.
Today, on the 13th of April, as I write this, I know that I am missing Jim for purely selfish reasons. There is a void now, in my life that was simply his presence. He had his own life, completely other friends, and I know that my involvement in his life was as honestly small as his involvement in my life was. He was a musician, a father, a husband, a friend, a scientist, a professor, and one of the most amazing human beings I’ve ever met.
When Phil walked away from my life, I was stunned, angry, and flippant. That kind of friend leaving hits like straight up betrayal. Every time a moment comes up in my life I want to tell Phil about I honestly feel elation that he doesn’t get to know about it because he chose to leave, so he doesn’t get to hear about the good shit.
When my mom passed, it had been at the end of a few bouts of cancer. I was trying to accomplish something with my life. It was easy to carry on because I knew that I was living a life that would make her proud. When my dad passed, I was elated because that fucker was finally dead. Did I mention that he admitted to “helping mom along” with her death because he was tired of spending all his retirement on her medical bills? Yeah, that’s another story….
But Jim’s passing is honestly the most significant loss I think I’ve ever sustained. There is literally nothing more to do than just accept the fact that he’s gone and keep moving. There will be more moments that I can imagine that I’ll want to share with him, but I won’t be able to. I wonder how long it will be before I won’t think, “I need to share this with Jim.” Hell, I still have a Lego set sitting aside, waiting for him to come help me put on its light kit.
I wonder if the D&D game will survive, I’m sure it will, because I have 3 other players who are invested quite a bit. But Jim was the lynchpin player. Some of the daily conversations we had were about the campaign, about the story, about the history of the world. I had that with no other player.
So, yeah, right now I’m grieving in my own way. Realizing that the world is a far lonelier place without him. But I’m also truly smiling at the fact that I had such an amazing friend. Not only that, but I made sure that he knew he was appreciated, so there’s absolutely no regrets at all. My life is so much better now because of his presence in it.
Jim, you will be missed, my friend. Thanks for officiating my 5th anniversary vow renewal. Thanks for helping me with the Lego light kits and my crazy household projects. Thanks for the countless texts and messages about things that only mattered to us.
Goodbye.
