Yesterday was All Saint’s Day
I spent it with my Granny, gone these last 12 years.
Today is All Soul’s day.
My heart also aches for the living.
Hi Little Sister,
Dad told me about your friend being found dead. I wanted to say how sorry I am.
When I was 17 one of my friends was found dead in his apartment from a heroin overdose.
He was 24.
That felt incredibly old to me at the time, but now I look back on it at my age I realise it is so very, very young.
He never got old. He never knew about the internet. He never saw the millennium turn. He never even had a cellphone.
That’s how long ago it was, but I still think about him.
They found him in his apartment with the needle in his right arm, but he was right handed.
Freaky, eh?
But nobody looked into it too hard – he was a junkie, right? And besides, he was already decomposing, so they just put him in a box and we all went to the funeral.
I cried and cried but it was kind of weird because I also couldn’t believe he was dead. I thought he’d just turn up at a bar a few days later chatting up some pretty girl or other. He was a real ladies’ man. Come to think of it there was a preponderance of attractive young women at that funeral, most of them decked out in the most amazing vintage outfits, complete with veils and seamed stockings (this was the 80’s and they just couldn’t resist).
I, on the other hand, had no makeup on and was wearing a navy school pinafore, but then I was just a friend. I sat at the back and sobbed quietly at the thought that I had refused to fetch him a pair of shoes he’d had on hold in London the summer before. He’d never have paid me back, but if I’d known he was going to die I might not have minded.
There’s nothing to say when someone dies that makes it better, really.
It’s just fucking tragic.
The only thing that is good is that you are still alive, that your family is not numb and devastated, our lives ruined because of a night of fun that went wrong.
You will get over this. You won’t get over this.
He’ll always be there in the back of your mind, making you reach for a tissue at unexpected moments. Like now, for me.
The first friend you had that died.
I hope it’s the last for a very, very long time.
Rest In Peace, boys
{ 17 comments }
A beautiful, sad post and I’m almost in tears now. Made me think of my first friend who died; Uni friend who committed suicide two years after graduating, no-one knows why, he was top of his year, really sociable and had a brilliant future ahead of him.
Big hugs to your sister.
You know, I have never thought about it but that is so true. The first funeral I attended of a friend was hard in a different way to those family ones I have been to where people have had ‘a good innings’ so to speak.
My friend was in his early twenties too, and a bit of a loner and disabled and not many people really gave him the time of day. I am glad I saw past it all to the man he was, a talented musician and good friend.
Thanks for writing something that made me remember him, it had been a bit too long.
It is so hard to lose someone especially when it is percived as before their time. A lovley but sad post
An incredibly moving post. A lot of it rang true, I lost two friends who were very young. Both to anorexia. It was tragic and left a giant hole that I now walk round rather than fall into every day. It does get easier, but it takes time.
Lie and death. The older I get the sadder it all seems.
Gah! I MEANT ‘life’. But Lie works too I guess..
Very moving post. And so well written – one more example of why you got featured in that Times article (congratulations on that, btw!)
I remember him. He was dating one of my friends at the time. And I have a ghost story about him. And I remember the rumors he wasnt alone when he OD’d.
Unfortunately, he wasnt the last to die young we knew.
A friend of mine died when I was 16. I guess you are right, you’ll never get over this.
Beautiful post!
Thanks, all. It cuts me up to think of these people who never got to grow past the urgency of youth, to see their own children, to watch how the world changes under your feet while you walk it. I feel so sad for my little sister, but sadder still for the family of this boy.
@Jessica. We’ll have to reminisce. I remember talking about it the night of my prom with Dinty Moore in tow – it had just happened the day before and I was still completely freaked out.
I love this post, although it is a sad one. It is our memories that live on forever and you my friend are one of my many great memories. Your trip to Jamaica resulted in a very inspiring story and we became friends forever.
I am so proud that you now have the family you deserve, living in sunshine and still writing your thoughts.
Blessings, One Love & Walk Good.
Gosh you’re good at writing about death! I miss my little brother (he would have been 34 now but instead was murdered at 26 by two boys trying to steal his car) but I wear my memories of him like a blanket. Don’t cry often – life goes on blah blah – but you’re right. It’s such a waste.
I write a response to this with tears in my eyes. I lost my best schoolfriend when we were both 18. I say lost, but she really REALLY wanted to die. We hadn’t actually spoken for 2 years and I didn’t get invited to her funeral. She was a very damaged girl, never able to believe that anyone loved her just as she was. We had a typically intense, highly damaging, boarding school friendship – she felt like a part of me. Even now there are days where I don’t believe she’s gone – she’d be 33 now.
I’ve lost babies, friends have lost babies, husbands, fathers, mothers, grandparents and other friends since, but it’s her death that still affects me this way.
Immensely talented, extraordinarily generous and fucked up in a way that meant she couldn’t anticipate the future. I will always miss her. x
If an editor is reading: please publish this woman I would totally buy her book!
JamaicaRocks. I miss you.
Knackered Mother. I am so sorry. I don’t know how you live without him and what an awful, violent way to lose him. Hugs.
BelleLulu. They do affect us in a way we can’t forget. It’s that first one.
A Modern Mother. THANKS! (cheque in post)
I suddenly realise how incredibly lucky I have been that no close friends have died. I’ve been to funerals but have never had to think that they hadn’t had a good innings. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to comprehend the utter waste of an unnecessary death.
I second Susanna – editors and publishers, sort it out. I’d pay good money for a book by this woman!
I fell upon your blog and reading this post — it rang true for me. I had a similar experience when my first friend passed at a young age, I can recall the shock, sadness, and strangeness it brought. Shortly after receiving the news, I remember riding a train back to the city, and having this realization of what growing older meant. Not just new life experiences, new bright people in me life, but also the knowledge that the more people I would know one day in my life would also leave in death. At that moment this incredible sadness of losing a good friend and knowledge that there would be others to leave too, sadden me more. Growing up is hard. I too hope it’s the last for a very long time.
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