Anonyblog

For Jeff

No, I'm not talking about Lord Vapor. Really I want to talk about, talk to, or just talk in general of the man that was my cousin Jeff.

Past tense. I can bear witness to this fact. Jeff woke up one morning with an almighty rod up his ass, a compilation of the major atrocities life committed against him. Jeff stuck a defiant middle finger in life's impassive face and ended the game on his own terms. In short, we call it suicide.

I'm not kidding anyone here, I didn't know Jeff very well. His destiny was wound loosely to mine when his father married the only aunt I have that lives within 480 miles of me. At this time I was, I think, about 8 years old. My brother was probably about 5. Then, at the wake, pictures I had never even known existed brought tears to my eyes. My little brother smiling-beaming, really, from Jeff's lap. This little boy adored him. Slightly stunned, it did occur to me that my brother, the epitome of insensitivity, was actually, probably, rather upset.

My uncle is the one who found him. Jeff had a fight with his mother, who's supposedly a real cranky broad, and his sister, who loved him dearly, as a sister may. This argument took place some few days before Christmas. I remember Jeff at Thanksgiving. Of course he was watching "the game" when I walked in. Permanent couch fixture. (Wool sweater never optional)
How rude of me, at first I could hardly recall that he was there. As if this failure is an insult to his memory. But why should I feel bad for that? The world, myself included, will just have to accept that it was the way it was. Why should that change just because he's dead? Perhaps it would be more insulting to pretend that it was anything different. Hell I would be pissed off if I bit the dust and some wack family member I barely knew was weeping over me. I would say "Bug off a little, won't ya?" Just have a few beers and make yourself useful by supporting the people that are really distraught (assuming there are such people).

Truthfully, my heart breaks over and over again to think of my Uncle Paul. He is not a very openly emotional man. I mean, we are family and we all know we love each other. He's just a guy and doesn't talk about this sort of thing very openly. But Jeff knew Paul loves him. He's his father, for Pete's sake. He has been there for him through thick and thin and I'll be damned if there's a person that would contest these facts.

How could you lose your son like this and not feel dead inside? The cat is out of the bag, Jeff was not a stable person. He had issues. Honest. His brain just didn't work the same as other people. There was just something off about him...but of course these issues are irrelevant to the father-son relationship.

Jeff was on Zoloft for depression. He struggled with things we take for granted every single day. He was angry, furious, frustrated. Why should it be so hard for him to find a girlfriend? I do believe that there was probably some chick out there that was a perfect fit. And still, his fury built upon itself.

The argument seems to have been the last straw. Jeff offed himself, took a humongous overdose of Zoloft. They say he died immediately, if that can be consolation.

Well, like I said, my uncle was the one that found him. Father stops by to try and patch things up, and walks in to the worst day of his life. I don't know the details, and I won't ask. You can guess how it went. Just stop reading and imagine. There he is, crumpled up. Dead for an unknown period of time. His skin is probably pale white, or maybe even blue. No one expected this. The amount of grief, the insurmountable regret. Shame. Why? What if? Regret, regret, regret.

When Jeff decided to kill himself, he wasn't thinking straight. Yeah yeah sure whatever shut up. It was his choice, his method of punishing those around him, his chance to end his own suffering. Fuck all that bologne. If he had survived (somehow) and was able to comment, he would probably look into the faces of his family members and admit that he didn't really want to die. You know he just wished everything would fucking go right for him. That's all he wanted. And he deserved it. There's no reason why life should have been so painful for him. Every person deserves the chance.

And he's gone. Sweater-wearing, game-watching, dog-loving person. Gone. Bye. Sorry I couldn't have been more of a help. I watch from a detatched room in the funeral parlor. I can see my uncle's knee is hurting, he's trying to stand and still talk to people. His stance is almost a stoop, a symbol to me that this man is broken. My aunt didn't even pretend to put on makeup. Her eyes are puffy and her nose is red. Frenetic. She doesn't ever sit, doesn't eat a bite or drink a sip. She has to help comfort others. Allow herself to be comforted. Grieve, yet be in control. How can a person do this? Is this what the human soul is for? To be resilient in the most impossible, trying moments?

My sobs are not for Jeff. He got what he wanted, it seems. For a person I never really considered very important, many more people have popped out of the woodwork. So many, perhaps 200, have been touched by the final action of this one guy. All will carry it with them until the day they meet their own ends. Whether it is significant, or of the tiniest importance, this suicide is now implanted on all of them.

What did I say to him when I was up there? I said "Sorry, Jeff. I never knew." Without speaking a word, I wished him better. Maybe this life was all wrong. But don't let it go to waste. Now that you are on the other side, please be a light to the other people that want to commit suicide. And no, I don't mean encourage them to do it. What I mean is that you have to urge them, let them know, that this life is worth living, that you have to live it the way you want and really live it. I mean it. Don't let them give up, Jeff.

Crazy? Perhaps. Rightly so, because I don't think life would be any good without a little crazy in it.

I'll always think of him on holidays, that's for sure. Unavoidable. But I guess this is good-bye.

Peace to you, Jeff.

Your cousin,
N

Posted by anonymous at January 6, 2008 9:18 PM