Last night's post was written on the laptop in my lap. In my recliner.
I have rocketed into the 21st century with a piece of five year old technology. Maybe even older than that.
Courtesy of my son Craig. He had a laptop he doesn't use anymore because he has all the up to date technology. So he gave the magic machine to me.
This could prove quite dangerous. I may become impossible to shut up.
Carol has an unstoppable relationship with computer games. Once she starts she can't stop. She goes upstairs to the computer saying "I'll be down shortly."
Two hours later, after numerous, quite loud exclamations of "I can't beat this goddamn game", she drags her ass downstairs and deigns to feed me.
Up until Sunday night, if I had something burning I just had to get off of my mind......................it had to wait. And when the opportunity finally presented itself, inspiration and energy had often waned.
Not anymore.
The world is at my mercy.
I feel smugly in control and quite hip.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Monday, December 29, 2014
Same Old Same Old (except Sadly Completely Different)
Back to work today for a semi-extended period.
Three days. That's about all I can handle.
12/29. 12/30. 12/31.
Then........................I'm off for four days. Gonna be with Carol for those days. In comfort and peace. Gonna celebrate my birthday on 01/01 with whoever shows up.
Looking forward to it.
I was in a daze today. Barely functioning. Too much sorrow. Too much pain. Especially in contrast to the enormous superficiality of my totally meaningless job.
I really didn't give a shit. I never will again.
I work with a couple of insignificant people. Selfish. Delusional. Back stabbing, agenda driven scum.
Other than that they are perfectly OK.
Given the shock and loss of the past week, I have been driven deep within myself. Thinking about the 61 years I have spent on this earth and wondering how I can make what's left count.
As lost as I was today, as disillusioned and sad and broken as I felt.........................I thought over and over again about Eddie and Kathy and Cori and Carol and.....................
You have to fight to make your life meaningful. The more loss you experience the more driven you become to make a statement, to actually do something with your life.
What the hell is the point of living life on your knees? It is meant to be lived with fist extended drawing blood from any face that gets in the way.
I hurt a lot today and I don't give a shit whether I did a good job or not because the people I work for are exploitive, manipulative, condescending and COLD HEARTED.
They do not deserve my loyalty or my concern.
My family does.
Recently I told you that I only evolve when I am broken.
The past week has broken me significantly.
Ultimately I care only about the healing of those who I love. The people who were hurt the most by untimely death.
Two more days before I can withdraw once again. What will be the benefit of that withdrawal?
I can't say. This is uncharted territory.
Will time soothe the pain of the ones I love?
No.
Even time is not that powerful.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Jonathan
My nephew, Jonathan Testa, passed away on Wednesday, December 17.
He was 27.
He was my brother's only son.
His death was drug related and is a testament to the hideous power of heroin and the immense inability of our society to deal with it.
As I walk around my house and live my life and get distracted by the little things that have to be done, suddenly, my mind will jolt me with the fact that Jonathan is gone.
Every time that has happened I have grimaced and shaken my head in disbelief.
My mind will not accept it, and will not for a long time to come.
My brother's grief is ten fold. I cannot imagine the enormity of his pain, the helpless sense of loss, the emptiness he is experiencing.
My heart aches to know how deeply Eddie is suffering. My mind recoils at my inability to truly comfort him.
I am ashamed to admit that I did not know Jonathan as well as I should have. Did not see him enough. Did not spend nearly enough time with him.
I do know he was exceptional. He was intelligent with a wicked sense of humor, he was talented in sports and very talented musically, he painted and he probably did ten other things well that I am not even aware of.
He was that kind of man.
When I was lucky enough to be around him I was aware of his confident sense of self. You couldn't miss it.
I vividly remember the phone call I got from my brother eight or nine years ago telling me that Jonathan had been busted.
I was completely off balance. Had no idea, no clue at all.
He was in college, playing in a band and appeared to be kicking ass. I would never have associated Jonathan with hard drugs.
That is how insidious drugs are, how evil and all consuming. That they could be introduced into a life with so much promise and just ruin it.
Since then it had all been about ups and downs. Sometimes Jonathan was doing well, sometimes he was not. Eddie and Kathy, Jonathan's mom, did everything - and I mean EVERYTHING - to help him out, to support him, to protect him and to let him know he was loved.
So much so that it negatively impacted their own lives.
Didn't matter. They were trying to protect their son.
I don't understand what happened. I don't know if Jonathan got into heroin for kicks or if he was trying to deal with a pain that I knew nothing about.
One small insight into the nature of Jonathan's personality was that when he was doing well he could always land a job. After losing a job, falling back into the clutches of heroin, entering rehab and cleaning up, he could walk into a restaurant and get hired. It happened over and over again.
He even got hired back to a place where he had been previously fired.
I know people who have been unemployed for years and cannot land a job.
That tells you a lot about the kind of man Jonathan was. That people could see his true nature through the confusion and that they would trust him with a job.
Jonathan cooked. He did it well. Another creative aspect of his personality.
He brought a lot to this world and should have brought a lot more.
His wake was a steady stream of family and friends for three solid hours. I was overwhelmed by the number of people who came through that funeral home.
Imagine how many more lives he would have touched had he lived another sixty years.
But I'll tell you something. I have memories of Jonathan as a baby, as a little boy, as a young man. Memories that cannot be taken away from me. I have pictures of him in my house that I will look upon with pride.
Forever.
At some point my grief will fade into a fierce pride and happiness at having been Jonathan's uncle. I was lucky to have him in my life, lucky to have experienced his amazing essence.
Until then I will ache for Kathy.
I will ache for my brother Ed in a way I have never hurt before. My heart is broken at Jonathan's loss and in the knowledge of the pain Eddie is going through.
Eddie and Kathy raised an exceptional son who became an exceptional man. He brought a lot of love, a lot of happiness, a lot of caring, and a lot of laughs to a lot of lives.
You cannot ask for more from a human being.
We who knew and loved him are grateful.
He was 27.
He was my brother's only son.
His death was drug related and is a testament to the hideous power of heroin and the immense inability of our society to deal with it.
As I walk around my house and live my life and get distracted by the little things that have to be done, suddenly, my mind will jolt me with the fact that Jonathan is gone.
Every time that has happened I have grimaced and shaken my head in disbelief.
My mind will not accept it, and will not for a long time to come.
My brother's grief is ten fold. I cannot imagine the enormity of his pain, the helpless sense of loss, the emptiness he is experiencing.
My heart aches to know how deeply Eddie is suffering. My mind recoils at my inability to truly comfort him.
I am ashamed to admit that I did not know Jonathan as well as I should have. Did not see him enough. Did not spend nearly enough time with him.
I do know he was exceptional. He was intelligent with a wicked sense of humor, he was talented in sports and very talented musically, he painted and he probably did ten other things well that I am not even aware of.
He was that kind of man.
When I was lucky enough to be around him I was aware of his confident sense of self. You couldn't miss it.
I vividly remember the phone call I got from my brother eight or nine years ago telling me that Jonathan had been busted.
I was completely off balance. Had no idea, no clue at all.
He was in college, playing in a band and appeared to be kicking ass. I would never have associated Jonathan with hard drugs.
That is how insidious drugs are, how evil and all consuming. That they could be introduced into a life with so much promise and just ruin it.
Since then it had all been about ups and downs. Sometimes Jonathan was doing well, sometimes he was not. Eddie and Kathy, Jonathan's mom, did everything - and I mean EVERYTHING - to help him out, to support him, to protect him and to let him know he was loved.
So much so that it negatively impacted their own lives.
Didn't matter. They were trying to protect their son.
I don't understand what happened. I don't know if Jonathan got into heroin for kicks or if he was trying to deal with a pain that I knew nothing about.
One small insight into the nature of Jonathan's personality was that when he was doing well he could always land a job. After losing a job, falling back into the clutches of heroin, entering rehab and cleaning up, he could walk into a restaurant and get hired. It happened over and over again.
He even got hired back to a place where he had been previously fired.
I know people who have been unemployed for years and cannot land a job.
That tells you a lot about the kind of man Jonathan was. That people could see his true nature through the confusion and that they would trust him with a job.
Jonathan cooked. He did it well. Another creative aspect of his personality.
He brought a lot to this world and should have brought a lot more.
His wake was a steady stream of family and friends for three solid hours. I was overwhelmed by the number of people who came through that funeral home.
Imagine how many more lives he would have touched had he lived another sixty years.
But I'll tell you something. I have memories of Jonathan as a baby, as a little boy, as a young man. Memories that cannot be taken away from me. I have pictures of him in my house that I will look upon with pride.
Forever.
At some point my grief will fade into a fierce pride and happiness at having been Jonathan's uncle. I was lucky to have him in my life, lucky to have experienced his amazing essence.
Until then I will ache for Kathy.
I will ache for my brother Ed in a way I have never hurt before. My heart is broken at Jonathan's loss and in the knowledge of the pain Eddie is going through.
Eddie and Kathy raised an exceptional son who became an exceptional man. He brought a lot of love, a lot of happiness, a lot of caring, and a lot of laughs to a lot of lives.
You cannot ask for more from a human being.
We who knew and loved him are grateful.
Sarge
I read this at the get together after Sarge's memorial service. I was going to write something else today but there is nothing more to say.
There are a
lot of people in this room today, a lot of life, and yet there is a huge void.
A distinct feeling of emptiness. Feels like something’s missing.
That’s
Sarge.
The people
in this room know they are lucky to have known Sarge. Those of us who were
related to him were even luckier.
That says a lot about the kind of man Sarge
was.
But there
are a hell of a lot more people outside this room who also consider themselves
lucky to have known Sarge.
And that
tells you everything you need to know about the man.
He brought
magic to your life, he made you laugh, he made you feel important and you knew
he cared.
The phrase “celebration
of life” has become a cliché over the years because it is all about people
trying to find a positive way to deal with death. Trying to make sense of
something that hurts so much.
In Sarge’s
case, the words “celebration of life” mean exactly what they were originally intended
to mean.
Because he
lived his life full throttle, he did it his way and he made so many other
peoples’ lives better.
Everybody
wants to live life on their own terms, but for most of us, it is much easier
said than done.
Sarge was
true to his spirit, always.
He was
tough, gentle, loving and considerate, funny, insane, free spirited, sensitive
and self-less.
The thing
that made him so cool was that he did it all so effortlessly. He didn’t have to
get in your face to be who he was.
His
personality was just there for all to enjoy. He projected strength, quietly.
Unless you
pissed him off. Then you were on your own. Sarge didn’t take shit from anybody.
And that is
another personality trait we all we wish we had.
I could tell
you a hundred stories of insanity I enjoyed with Sarge in various states of
altered consciousness. Stories about crimes we committed in the vicinity of the
Pocono International Raceway, and much more.
And for
every story I could tell there is somebody inside this room or somewhere else
who could match it.
Sarge made
insanity fun and fear non-existent.
I could also
turn around and tell you about a hundred conversations I had with Sarge.
Sensitive, thoughtful, meaningful, quiet conversations about life and
experiences and hopes and disappointments.
Those were
special because I knew I was talking to a man who meant everything he said, who
felt everything he said.
No bullshit.
Just real life.
I know I am
not the only one he spoke to in that way. He touched a lot of people with his
openness and his honesty.
Sarge loved
to give gifts. I could fill a room with the gifts Sarge gave me. Collectibles
and T-shirts and hats and mirrors and lights and memorabilia.
And every
time he gave me a gift he made me feel special. Like he had given it a lot of
thought.
I loved it
when he would take me down to the basement at the Grille and paw through a
bunch of racing stuff he had stashed there until he got to whatever it was he had
in mind.
He had other
stuff stashed down there too, and that made the treasure hunt even better.
On one of
his last visits to our house he gave Carol a bright red VW bug. A metal car.
Carol drives
a VW bug and it is the love of her life.
She also
created a garden in front of our house that is her passion.
Sarge told
her to put the bug in the garden and leave it there. Leave it there in the rain
and the snow and all the seasons. He told her to let it rust there because
that’s what it was meant to do.
The car is
covered by snow right now.
That is a
perfect example of the thought that Sarge put into giving gifts.
Lots of
people have gifts from Sarge that they can hang on to as a reminder of the kind
hearted, generous man that he was. But none of us need those reminders.
If he was in
your life he was in your heart.
I knew Sarge
for something like 38 or 39 years. More than half my life. Many in here knew
him longer than that.
I’m standing
up here trying to explain what he meant to me, the good things he brought to my
life but, ultimately, I can’t do it.
What I am
really doing is representing everyone who knew and loved Sarge. Because he gave all of us something to
remember. Something special.
He was a
rare individual who made you feel good about yourself. He was always there to
listen to you, to give you advice and to help you out.
And he made
you laugh. Above all else he made you laugh.
Sarge was
larger than life.
His shoes
will never be filled.
Friday, December 26, 2014
12/26/14
Not sure what is going to come out of me today. I have never been in this situation before.
And hope never to be again.
Today is December 26. The day after Christmas, 2014.
Sarge is gone. Jonathan is gone.
My family has been through a lot of pain, a lot of tears in the past week and it will not stop for some time to come.
When I say my family I include Carol's family and Cori's family and Kathy's family.
And all the friends.
These deaths have touched so many people it is overwhelming.
Sarge's wake and Jonathan's wake were an endless stream of people mourning for hours.
Any death sucks. But it was strikingly obvious to any outsider that these two lives were special. The number of people whose lives they affected was overwhelming.
We, the family and close friends, already knew this. We were lucky enough to live it.
Two wakes, two days in a row, that communicated the message loud and clear that these two men didn't just live, they intertwined their life with yours and made your life better.
That is a rare and meaningful situation.
My brother Ed came up on Christmas Eve and spent the night. We had a magnificent meal, courtesy of Ed. We talked, we watched a movie and laughed.
My sons and their women came up on Christmas day. Despite the circumstances, we had a very good day. Lots of conversation, lots of laughter, lots of emotion.
It was deeply meaningful in a way it had never been before. It is the worst crime to take life and relatives and friends for granted. It is a shame that it takes death to jolt you out of complacency.
I will never again take anyone I love for granted.
Never.
I kept looking around, I fought back tears over and over again. I looked at my brother, who I have looked up to forever and marveled at his strength.
He made everybody laugh over and over again with his typical laser-like wit.
Cori worked on Christmas day. I'm sure she did it in part to keep her mind off Sarge, as much as that is possible. I also have a sneaking suspicion she also did it to allow someone else to spend the day with family.
She is that loving and considerate.
I thought about Eddie and Kathy and Cori all day long. I have no idea what they are going through. But I know they were strong and gave strength to those who mourned their pain.
These are amazing people.
I watched my strong wife Carol, who I love so much, put on a magnificent Christmas feast. Even though I know she is in a great deal of pain, mourning the loss of her baby brother.
She is an amazing woman.
I was lucky yesterday. I was surrounded by family on Christmas day. Close to my brother who is mourning the loss of his son. Close to my wife who is mourning the loss of her brother. I got to talk to Kathy, Jonathan's mom, and Cori, Sarge's wife.
I was with my sons and their women, four people who I worship and love so deeply it consumes me.
I am lucky to have these people in my life. I have always known that.
From now on I will hold them tighter than ever before. I will keep them closer than ever before.
They are my magic.
They are my life.
And hope never to be again.
Today is December 26. The day after Christmas, 2014.
Sarge is gone. Jonathan is gone.
My family has been through a lot of pain, a lot of tears in the past week and it will not stop for some time to come.
When I say my family I include Carol's family and Cori's family and Kathy's family.
And all the friends.
These deaths have touched so many people it is overwhelming.
Sarge's wake and Jonathan's wake were an endless stream of people mourning for hours.
Any death sucks. But it was strikingly obvious to any outsider that these two lives were special. The number of people whose lives they affected was overwhelming.
We, the family and close friends, already knew this. We were lucky enough to live it.
Two wakes, two days in a row, that communicated the message loud and clear that these two men didn't just live, they intertwined their life with yours and made your life better.
That is a rare and meaningful situation.
My brother Ed came up on Christmas Eve and spent the night. We had a magnificent meal, courtesy of Ed. We talked, we watched a movie and laughed.
My sons and their women came up on Christmas day. Despite the circumstances, we had a very good day. Lots of conversation, lots of laughter, lots of emotion.
It was deeply meaningful in a way it had never been before. It is the worst crime to take life and relatives and friends for granted. It is a shame that it takes death to jolt you out of complacency.
I will never again take anyone I love for granted.
Never.
I kept looking around, I fought back tears over and over again. I looked at my brother, who I have looked up to forever and marveled at his strength.
He made everybody laugh over and over again with his typical laser-like wit.
Cori worked on Christmas day. I'm sure she did it in part to keep her mind off Sarge, as much as that is possible. I also have a sneaking suspicion she also did it to allow someone else to spend the day with family.
She is that loving and considerate.
I thought about Eddie and Kathy and Cori all day long. I have no idea what they are going through. But I know they were strong and gave strength to those who mourned their pain.
These are amazing people.
I watched my strong wife Carol, who I love so much, put on a magnificent Christmas feast. Even though I know she is in a great deal of pain, mourning the loss of her baby brother.
She is an amazing woman.
I was lucky yesterday. I was surrounded by family on Christmas day. Close to my brother who is mourning the loss of his son. Close to my wife who is mourning the loss of her brother. I got to talk to Kathy, Jonathan's mom, and Cori, Sarge's wife.
I was with my sons and their women, four people who I worship and love so deeply it consumes me.
I am lucky to have these people in my life. I have always known that.
From now on I will hold them tighter than ever before. I will keep them closer than ever before.
They are my magic.
They are my life.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
To Cori
Cori and Sarge. Sarge and Cori.
You might as well get rid of the "and" and create a new name.
CoriSarge. Or SargeCori.
Because that is what they were. They were one.
Man, they were amazing.
No other woman on this planet could have been married to Sarge. Nobody. She was perfect for him.
She knew when to let Sarge be Sarge; she knew when to stand up to him. She did it naturally because she knew exactly who her husband was and she knows exactly who she is.
Sarge could never have been married to a wimp, nor could he ever have been married to a piranha. He needed a woman he could love. He needed a woman who would love him as he was. He needed a woman he could respect.
Cori is all that and more.
She did not make him better, he did not make her better. He was and she is perfect exactly as themselves.
But there was a magic there between them, something special, a vibe that everyone could feel. When you stepped into their aura you knew good things, fun things, were about to happen.
Cori did not exist in Sarge's shadow, as a weaker woman would have. She casts her own shadow and it is formidable.
Let me tell you something. I never would have messed with Sarge. He would have kicked my ass. And I will never mess with Cori either. She can kick my ass too.
Together they created an atmosphere at Sarges' Tailgate Grille that was perfect. I have never been in any other bar or restaurant where I felt more comfortable.
And believe me I have done my homework. I have been in a lot of bars.
The comfort Carol and I felt there was not just because we are family. If we weren't family it would not have mattered. The Grille was an extension of who Cori and Sarge were. When you walked in there you were among friends.
You felt it. You knew it. It was in the air, it was in the contentment of the people sitting at the bar, the happiness of the people dining in the restaurant.
The Grille would not have been the Grille without Sarge. The Grille would not have been the Grille without Cori.
Period.
Cori is her own woman, she is sharp, a no bullshit kind of woman. She also has a direct, wicked sense of humor, a streak of insanity, a compassionate and caring and loving nature, and a quiet cool.
We visited Cori and Sarge a lot when he was at Seal Rock. I looked a round a lot. I took it all in.
Because it broke my heart to see Sarge in that setting because I know he hated being in that situation.
The thing I noticed most powerfully was the way Cori looked into Sarge's eyes. I saw it time and time again as she tended to his needs, worked so hard to make him physically comfortable and tried so hard to comfort him emotionally.
She look directly into his eyes as they talked. And he looked up into her eyes with complete trust and pure love. Words could never have expressed what their eye to eye contact did.
The intensity of that emotion blew me away and broke me down every time. It was the ultimate expression of the ultimate love.
No one could have comforted Sarge the way Cori did. No one would have been strong enough to do it.
None of this surprised me. I have been around Cori and Sarge for almost 40 years. I have seen the love she gave him, the laughter she inspired in him, the strength she drew from him and the strength she gave to him.
Cori told us she was looking into Sarge's eyes as he was looking into her hers at the end. Holding him and talking to him.
He was a very lucky man. He took that look and that love with him into his new existence. That's all the ammunition he will need to deal with his new situation.
Cori is loved and appreciated and respected deeply. Always has been. Always will be.
Sarge was an amazing man.
Cori is an amazing woman.
Carol and I love you deeply, Cori.
You might as well get rid of the "and" and create a new name.
CoriSarge. Or SargeCori.
Because that is what they were. They were one.
Man, they were amazing.
No other woman on this planet could have been married to Sarge. Nobody. She was perfect for him.
She knew when to let Sarge be Sarge; she knew when to stand up to him. She did it naturally because she knew exactly who her husband was and she knows exactly who she is.
Sarge could never have been married to a wimp, nor could he ever have been married to a piranha. He needed a woman he could love. He needed a woman who would love him as he was. He needed a woman he could respect.
Cori is all that and more.
She did not make him better, he did not make her better. He was and she is perfect exactly as themselves.
But there was a magic there between them, something special, a vibe that everyone could feel. When you stepped into their aura you knew good things, fun things, were about to happen.
Cori did not exist in Sarge's shadow, as a weaker woman would have. She casts her own shadow and it is formidable.
Let me tell you something. I never would have messed with Sarge. He would have kicked my ass. And I will never mess with Cori either. She can kick my ass too.
Together they created an atmosphere at Sarges' Tailgate Grille that was perfect. I have never been in any other bar or restaurant where I felt more comfortable.
And believe me I have done my homework. I have been in a lot of bars.
The comfort Carol and I felt there was not just because we are family. If we weren't family it would not have mattered. The Grille was an extension of who Cori and Sarge were. When you walked in there you were among friends.
You felt it. You knew it. It was in the air, it was in the contentment of the people sitting at the bar, the happiness of the people dining in the restaurant.
The Grille would not have been the Grille without Sarge. The Grille would not have been the Grille without Cori.
Period.
Cori is her own woman, she is sharp, a no bullshit kind of woman. She also has a direct, wicked sense of humor, a streak of insanity, a compassionate and caring and loving nature, and a quiet cool.
We visited Cori and Sarge a lot when he was at Seal Rock. I looked a round a lot. I took it all in.
Because it broke my heart to see Sarge in that setting because I know he hated being in that situation.
The thing I noticed most powerfully was the way Cori looked into Sarge's eyes. I saw it time and time again as she tended to his needs, worked so hard to make him physically comfortable and tried so hard to comfort him emotionally.
She look directly into his eyes as they talked. And he looked up into her eyes with complete trust and pure love. Words could never have expressed what their eye to eye contact did.
The intensity of that emotion blew me away and broke me down every time. It was the ultimate expression of the ultimate love.
No one could have comforted Sarge the way Cori did. No one would have been strong enough to do it.
None of this surprised me. I have been around Cori and Sarge for almost 40 years. I have seen the love she gave him, the laughter she inspired in him, the strength she drew from him and the strength she gave to him.
Cori told us she was looking into Sarge's eyes as he was looking into her hers at the end. Holding him and talking to him.
He was a very lucky man. He took that look and that love with him into his new existence. That's all the ammunition he will need to deal with his new situation.
Cori is loved and appreciated and respected deeply. Always has been. Always will be.
Sarge was an amazing man.
Cori is an amazing woman.
Carol and I love you deeply, Cori.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Cancer And Drugs
I'm a little pissed off at death today.
Actually I am a LOT pissed off at death.
On Wednesday morning at 3:45 a.m. Carol and I got a call that her brother Sarge had passed away.
He was 59.
He had been battling cancer for years and doing it with courage and style. He kept his sense of humor, he maintained his fiercely individualistic personality.
We could all see it coming but it doesn't matter.
It hurts.
This morning we got a call at 6:00 a.m. from my brother telling us that his son Jonathan died from an overdose.
He was 27.
He had been dealing with addiction for years. Had his good periods, had his tough periods. Put his parents through hell. Obviously he was living his own personal hell.
We were all aware of the possibility but it doesn't matter.
It hurts.
Sarge lost his life to cancer; Jonathan lost his life to drugs.
59 and 27.
If you add their ages together you get a sum that should represent one life. And even that is too short.
What the hell ever happened to natural causes? What the hell ever happened to living a life and dying naturally in old age?
Life is tough enough. Death is tough enough.
Why do we need disease? Why do we need torment and twisted ways to deal with it?
Sarge's obituary should have read: "Kenneth "Sarge" Sargent died today of natural causes at the age of 93. He lived a robust, independent life, staying true to his soul always. He touched so many lives they cannot be counted. He made his mark on the world and leaves a void that can never be filled."
Jonathan's obituary should have read: "Jonathan Testa died today at the age of 93. He was an accomplished musician and credited his father Ed as his inspiration. He was naturally gifted at sports, which he always said he inherited from his father's genes. He leaves behind three children and five grandchildren. He lived a successful life and gave back as much love as he received."
That is how it should have been.
But life does not play fair. Death does not play fair.
Sarge lived his own life and brought so much happiness to so many people. His life was cut way too short. He had a lot more to give. There will be people whose lives will be smaller for not having come in contact with Sarge.
Jonathan's life got cut short before he had a chance to live it. He never had a chance to redeem himself, to overcome his demons and to see what the world had to offer. To see what he could bring to this world to make it a little more enjoyable.
These two deaths are overwhelming.
Enough already.
Actually I am a LOT pissed off at death.
On Wednesday morning at 3:45 a.m. Carol and I got a call that her brother Sarge had passed away.
He was 59.
He had been battling cancer for years and doing it with courage and style. He kept his sense of humor, he maintained his fiercely individualistic personality.
We could all see it coming but it doesn't matter.
It hurts.
This morning we got a call at 6:00 a.m. from my brother telling us that his son Jonathan died from an overdose.
He was 27.
He had been dealing with addiction for years. Had his good periods, had his tough periods. Put his parents through hell. Obviously he was living his own personal hell.
We were all aware of the possibility but it doesn't matter.
It hurts.
Sarge lost his life to cancer; Jonathan lost his life to drugs.
59 and 27.
If you add their ages together you get a sum that should represent one life. And even that is too short.
What the hell ever happened to natural causes? What the hell ever happened to living a life and dying naturally in old age?
Life is tough enough. Death is tough enough.
Why do we need disease? Why do we need torment and twisted ways to deal with it?
Sarge's obituary should have read: "Kenneth "Sarge" Sargent died today of natural causes at the age of 93. He lived a robust, independent life, staying true to his soul always. He touched so many lives they cannot be counted. He made his mark on the world and leaves a void that can never be filled."
Jonathan's obituary should have read: "Jonathan Testa died today at the age of 93. He was an accomplished musician and credited his father Ed as his inspiration. He was naturally gifted at sports, which he always said he inherited from his father's genes. He leaves behind three children and five grandchildren. He lived a successful life and gave back as much love as he received."
That is how it should have been.
But life does not play fair. Death does not play fair.
Sarge lived his own life and brought so much happiness to so many people. His life was cut way too short. He had a lot more to give. There will be people whose lives will be smaller for not having come in contact with Sarge.
Jonathan's life got cut short before he had a chance to live it. He never had a chance to redeem himself, to overcome his demons and to see what the world had to offer. To see what he could bring to this world to make it a little more enjoyable.
These two deaths are overwhelming.
Enough already.
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