So last week, my best friends son’s girlfriend died in a dune buggy accident. Last Friday, my friend Fred, a mentor for Scott, the son, who had been turned down for his third heart transplant, opted to unplug his pump and slip away.
Last night, the aforementioned best friends son, having dealt with more sadness and death in one week than he had all his life, left Fred’s memorial and took his own life.
19 years old, and the sweetest, kindest, most fundamentally good person I have ever met, and he decided it was too much. His father, who lost a brother to suicide twenty five years ago is on his last legs. He’s in danger of slipping off the wagon after almost ten years of sobriety. I have no idea what to do or say.
These were the best parents a kid could have, nothing but unconditional love, acceptance and hugs. Lots and lots of hugs.
We are all converging on the house this weekend, for a memorial and some support.
Though all this, the fucking Universe has the temerity to just keep going on. Nothing stopped. People went to work like it was any other day.
I wanted to shout at them, tell them what had been lost, not just by friends and family, but by the world.
It’s a worse place for not having him in it.
So fuck you fate, universe, karma, coincidence. Whatever it is, fuck you right up the ass with a red hot poker.