Such a flitty little song. A bunch of happy nuns shaking their heads smiling about a younger whipper shnapper...doesn't get more flitty than that.
I am not in a flitty mood.
-don't read on if you 1) don't like hearing someone swear 2) don't like listening to people in crappy moods 3) or are under 15
-In remembrance of the Strong warrior
I wait for the Breath.
Raise me up! From this grave.
Lying trapped in my grave,
I rest amongst death.
My mouth, my mouth is dry.
My tongue shrivled gone.
My bones are all dry.
My waiting is long.
Wet my mouth with your words.
Restore body from earth.
You gave me this life.
Thou [must] rememberst my birth.
How did I meet him? I actually couldn't remember when I first did, I had to go back and look. I started my first chemo round the day after christmas 2003. I was sick for New Years and then I believe I went back in for another round (I remember very little of it, sickness+exhaustion+drugs+unwillingness to remember.) This was the entry his mother posted on January 28 2004:
"...the 15 yr. old boy named Chris Smiley that Kelly met last time is here again this week and next. His Mom and I are having fun teasing the boys. This is the family who has had to come home from their field in Turkey. I learned they have 4 children altogether. Kelly was too sick last time to get to know Chris. Last night however the two played computer games for 2.5 hrs. and also went to a "Hang Out" group with 2 other teen guys... "
(we were playing Predator...this was before we got into Halo, Savage etc. etc. We both had macs...we had a strong technological bond from the begining.)
He started getting his chemo a bit before me, we both had tumors that changed our mobilitiy indefinitely. At first it was just that hesitant male-to-male bonding with video games and such. Curtains would be pulled when other doctors and nurses came in. Then we witnessed each other barfing. Dry heaving does something to a friendship, puts it on the fast track. Also that whole being bald issue too. Our mothers became close, inevitibly of course ...which led to invitations. He came to our house a couple times. We visited their house in Redding, sped around their muddy track in their sweet go carts. After our surgeries, I think, we became closer than we liked to be. We knew what the other was going through, and what we put up with, but we didn't talk about it much because knowing someone else actually understands the inner raw, raw pain, is hard enough without having to talk about it with them. I didn't want to talk about it, I knew he knew. And I hated that he knew, because that meant he had experienced it, and I hated that it was something so personal that I didn't want to talk bout it to the one person who knew the best how it felt. There was always that undercover hate of pity. We didn't want to get pitied, but oh we wanted it so damn bad. After going through what we went through, damn right we should get some pity. And it's our God given right to complain about that well earned pity in any way we choose. Kelly was an expert at that, I envied his ability to do that too, I just wanted to sleep through the whole thing, he was able to say things that I wasn't able too sometimes.
And the drugs. The stupid, stupid, stupid messed up drugs. We forgot so much because of what they gave us. Chunks of memories just, don't exist...time that passed that isn't there. No record of living in time ...really screws with the mind. Because he started chemo earlier, he finished his rounds earlier and was out of the whole hospital thing pretty quick. Then I got out too. Then they found more tumors in his leg, and I went back for other things. Then I got out again, and he stayed. Sometimes I feel like I left him in the hell hole, my body trying to gain strength and succeeding slowly, where as his did that whole roller coaster thing and getting weaker. He was the master at looking healthy though. There were times I swear I knew he was feeling bad but I couldn't tell because he was sarcastic and hilarious like before. We were in the same boat. Or at least familiar ship mates, and I felt like me getting better left him there. It's not guilt, more like a yearning to pull him out too, or maybe jump in and try to push him out...or something. I don't know. I loved him. He was a buddy, trully a God given friend, he helped me through some thing. (unknowingly and knowingly) more than any of my other peers. And he... died this morning. I knew he was weak, and he really didn't have long to live, he was on hospice....but I just saw him...two months ago and he looked fine. I knew he wasn't actually fine..but he looked ok. When Robert died, it was a bit different because I had only known him for less than a year. But I actually...witnessed Robert dying in the ICU. And seeing him die numbed me in a way of: "Holy God, I just witnessed someone pass from this life." But Robert had really weakened...and was drawn out..Kelly had given his best...and was ready to stop feeling the deep, deep burning of pain. I knew Kelly so much more...he became one of my good friends...good friend. And I wasn't anywhere near him, I was sleeping. If I was awake I would have been worrying about my upcoming french test. And he died.
I haven't cried, I want too, but I don't want too. I want too...because I haven't in a long time, and he deserves some goddamn tears. I don't want too because a part of me is in denial. And I hate saying that too because I take reality pretty fucking seriously. I've only known for four hours, so this is going to soak in some more before I go to his funeral in two weeks.
Kelly is dead. May he rest in beautiful peace. God rest his tired soul.
He is no longer here.
what the FUCK. How can he be fucking dead. fuck.fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. shit. shit. shit.
That said, I would like to tell all of you. While I am in this mood that life isn't to be wasted. You hear that? Do not waste your life. Because too many loose theirs prematurely and unfairly for you to go fucking around wasting it some little thing or another. Make big plans, and then grab them by the throat and look 'em in the eye. If your the type who likes to be nice, then maybe warn your goals before you grab them, but grab them, or grab them nicely. Smile, because days may come when you'll wish you smiled more, or you might have forgotten what smiling felt and looked like. Pursue those you love and viciously guard the ones who love you. Don't do you dare stop loving. There's enough anti-loving feelings out there for you to stop loving when your perfectly capable of loving with all you are. Get mad. Get mad at things that wish to destroy love. Respond to it with all the fiery love you've got, and that hateful thing will back down. Do not ever abandon God. You abandon God and you will dry up like a frog trapped in a glass bottle in the sun. He provides love that will flow through you. Get mad at God every now and then. If you don't fight with the creator of all, every now and then, then you don't have a relationship or a friendship. Friends get mad and disagree because they know whatever they say, the other person will still love them and if you can't be honest or open with God, like anger deserves, then you don't have anything real with him. Like right now.
How the fuck can you put Kelly through all that pain only to lead him up to You? Huh God? Why allow such a thing?
I KNOW...I know why. But YOU have certain obligations and promises to fulfill that You yourself set down in the first place. I know we don't deserve happiness or a good life, but that much pain? It resonates all around too. You know the affects of one person's suffering. For Christ sake, Jesus' suffering has changed reality, how can you still allow such deep suffering to surround and envelope one person, and then swallow him whole?
"I am old now and have not much to fear from the anger of the gods, I have no husband nor chid, nor hardly a friend, through whom they can hurt me. My body, this lean carrion, that still has to be washed and fed and have clothes hung about it daily with so many changes, they may killy as soon as they please... The succession is provided for. My crown passes to my nephew.
Being, for all these reasons, free from fear, I will write in this book what no one who has happinees would dare to write. I will accuse the gods, especially the god who lives on the Grey Mountain. That is, I will tell all he has done to me from the beginning, as if I were making my complaint of him before a judge. But there is not judge between gods and men, and the god of the mountain will not answer me me. Terror and plagues are not an answer. I write in Greek as my old master taught to me." -First paragraph from "Till we have faces" by C.S. Lewis
to everyone else, please pray for the moravec family,
and to my God and my Creator, I wait for your answer, I have made my claims and I will be silent. I love you Oh my Dearest Lord. And please forgive me when I say, I fucking hate the things you don't do sometimes.
I will now, shut the fuck up.
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