Monday, February 16, 2015

My shooting star...

Yesterday, I took a "Metallica drive".  It started out as a quick run to the pharmacy but I set Pandora to "shuffle" and Metallica came on.  I must've been in a vulnerable or sentimental state of mind because it took me back to the time I was first introduced to the song, and to Metallica.  I met someone in college that was unlike anyone else I've ever met in my life.  He was a busboy and I was a cashier & bartender at a local crab house, and that is where we met.  Tony was this cute little guy, with an infectious smile, that was always walking in and out of the kitchen spinning his serving tray on his finger.  Everyone liked him, you had to like him, he was just a kind, gentle soul and he was just cool.  Anyway, we spent so much time together at work, that we ended up hanging out together after work most nights and just doing typical college stuff.  Drinking, partying, laughing, socializing....just plain old fun.  He introduced me to his roommates and I introduced him to mine.  At the end of a day of classes or work we would make our plans, we were always together.  My boyfriend wasn't too happy about it but I guess my friendship with Tony was more important to me so I just dealt with it.
Tybee Island ... 1990ish

Tony played guitar.  He was self-taught, he also taught himself to play bass...he was really good.  He collaborated with friends and other musicians through the years and was always part of a band or two or three. One year, I think he even played at Ozzfest! One of the things that always struck me as remarkable about his ear for music was that most of his family, his parents and brother included, are deaf.  Sign language was his first language...he told me that his babysitter taught him words and how to talk.  I remember visiting him once during summer break, at his parent's house in Maryland.  It was so quiet in the house and when he introduced me to his family, they all just waved to me...it was a strange feeling.  Anyway, one time, I dropped by his house and he was playing his guitar.  He was playing Metallica.  He said I'm not sure if you will like them but they are pretty cool and he picked up his guitar and played Metallica's "One" for me.  I loved it and now when it comes on the radio, I am back in that moment.
Tony 2010ish

Tony and I always kept in touch through the years.  Sometimes by phone, sometimes I would get a letter or a postcard, then later, email and Facebook.  When Facebook came along, it was awesome!  I could talk to him, see recent pictures, listen to his music...it was great.  He ended up buying a house in Arizona, which was huge for someone that never stayed in one place for too long, he used to get restless and then off he would go, on to some new adventure!  I never really liked it when he had a girlfriend because I hated it when he got his heart broken by some careless girl. A breakup was usually followed by another cross-country move...NY, California, Arizona, California...lot's of back and forth.  I always watched from afar to make sure he was doing OK.  One day, he posted a picture of his brand new love on Facebook.  It was a black Ducati bike, which he lovingly named Pearl.  I know he loved it but I was not a fan.  Recently, my fiancee (Sean) and I had planned a trip to Vegas because one of our family members was getting married.  I thought it would be a great opportunity to get together with Tony and introduce him to Sean.  Not sure Sean was as excited about the idea as I was, because of course he was not really clear what kind of friend this guy was to me....I assured him it was always purely platonic so he played along and agreed a get-together would be cool.  I knew once they met, he would understand and we have an awesome time!  Well, I guess I could go on and on detailing our experiences and our history and trying to explain why he meant so much to me but some things just can't be explained.
The day in Vegas never came.  A few months before our trip I got the devastating news that Tony was gone.  The news came in the form of an instant message on Facebook, from one of our mutual friends.  The message just said, "are you OK" and "it really sucks".  I was confused...it took me a minute to connect the dots.  And then the panic came over me as I checked Tony's Facebook page.  He was gone...gone forever.  His last post was a picture of himself and his bike...it was a nice day and he was going out for a ride.  I fell apart, I left work....I cried, a lot.
I went to his memorial service in Maryland and saw his family for the second time.  It had been many, many years and I doubt they remembered ever meeting me. The whole thing was very difficult to bear.  I wanted to pay my condolences to his mother, and I knew it was going to be difficult to convey what I wanted to say because I do not speak sign language.  When I saw her face, it just crushed me.  I am a mom and I thought about the pain she must have been feeling and there were just no words.  I just touched her face and looked into her eyes...there was nothing more I could do.  I wanted to have my friend back, I wanted her to have her son back.  It has been 3 years and it still makes me cry when I think about it....when certain songs play, I relive it all.


I used to tell Tony that he was my shooting star.  I have reluctantly grown to accept the reality that I will only see my friend in my dreams.....

2 comments:

  1. I'm so sorry you went through that. I know this pain all too well because I went through the same thing. Back in the early 90's -- just like you -- I had a platonic male friend named, Stan. We met at a party and clicked because we both played guitar. Soon after, we hung out almost every. single. day. We played guitar for hours on end or just drank some beer, listened to Pink Floyd (your Metallica) -- and did everything under the sun together as best friends would. We used to grab Chinese takeout, rent movies from 3C Video (yes VCR tapes) and drink beer. (Always a given.)

    One night he came over and we were just sitting listening to Pink Floyd again and having a beer. He said, "Deb, I have to just go to FL and I'll be back by Sunday. Let's hang out, ok?" He always would drive down to FL -- get there in like less than 10 hrs cause he RACED there and then he'd come back and everything was fine.

    He never showed up Sunday. I tried calling his house...

    No answer.

    I called again...and again...and again.

    I was pissed off.

    Monday night came along. A friend of mine called me.

    "Deb? You OK?" (Similar words you described on your phone call.)

    "Umm, yeah...why?"

    "Don't you know?"

    ................................

    "He's gone, Deb. Stan died."

    I went into complete denial. I called the same number again and again like a lunatic. I drove over to the house and banged on his door. .....Nothing.

    Now and then I hear a Pink Floyd song and I just kind of go back in time. I remember just me and him and a pack of cigarettes and a six pack. I remember the long talks,the friendship, the bond, the vulnerability, the unconditional love. I remember my friend. I still cry till this day. I remember all the secrets he told me, I remember everything he set out to do for his future.

    Just remember that your friend isn't too far from you. I am not sure what you believe in as far as the afterlife, but I do know that my friend still visits me occasionally. You can call me 'coo-coo' or just play ol' batshit cray-cray, but one night I kept getting signs that he was there and I finally said, "Just show up if that's really you!" All of the sudden, a HUGE ball of light came bouncing through our living room, onto the floor and out through the corner of the room. My partner looked at me first and said, "DID YOU SEE THAT?"

    Confirmed.

    Your friend knows you still care. Trust that.


    I'm glad you created a blog. It's very healthy for anyone to do. Never feel stifled or embarrassed to write down your thoughts and share them with the world. That's how I made a career of it. I just started a blog, wrote a book and put ALL of me into it. It has helped me more than you know. I even wrote something about our old place of work which I think you'll laugh at. You'll remember who I'm talking about (although I changed names to protect the guilty). ha...

    Anyway, KEEP WRITING!

    And be good to yourself. :)

    Thanks for sharing your story. It brought back some wonderful memories for me. And see? That's what TRUE writing does. It RELATES. It CONNECTS people to one another and shows that we all go through similar situations.

    :)

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  2. Deb...thanks so much for taking the time to comment and for sharing your story with me. I greatly value and appreciate your insight. It feels good to jot my thoughts down. And sending them out into the great abyss that is the internet, was OK....the scary part was sharing it with people that I actually know. Thanks for your encouragement....it really means a lot to me ♥

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