Tag: funeral

Confession To The World

Rob Says1 Comment

Have you ever done something that if the people around you found out you did it, it would change how they look at you, what they think of you? That it would literally change their worlds, and yours, forever?

I have. And I did.

You see, a little over four years ago, I committed a crime. I did something that could get me locked up for the rest of my life. In some areas of the world, it could get me executed.

I have committed Murder in the First Degree.

It was premeditated. I did it in cold blood. I did it without remorse as to the suffering of the individual that I killed. And I would do it again given a chance and if I had to do it again.

Who did I murder, you ask?

Just this guy I knew. I knew him my whole life and he was one miserable, unhappy son of a bitch. In all honesty, what I did to him shouldn’t be classified as murder, if anything, I should get a medal for what I did. If anything, I should be considered a hero. I don’t consider killing him as an act of brutality so much as an act of mercy. I put that motherfucker out of his misery.

I grew up with this guy and I watched him grow and do his thing. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but he couldn’t see it. I tried telling him time and time again that he was good enough, but he wouldn’t hear it. I watched him hurt himself with drinking, the occasional drugs, and the shit food that he ate. I heard him talk of dying on and off throughout his life. If anyone wanted to die at one point or another, it was this friend of mine.

He was a good guy, don’t get me wrong, but god he could be a doormat sometimes. It was pathetic really. It was sad to watch him settle for less when he could have had so much more. If only he could have seen what I saw. You can’t make someone see the truth though, they will only see it when they are ready to see it.

That’s why I don’t try and “fix things.” People are going to do what they are going to do, and you can tell them all the reasons that they should or shouldn’t do something, but until they have crashed and burned enough times, whatever you tell them will fall on deaf ears.

There’s a meme that does the rounds on the internet and has done those rounds for several years. It goes something like this:

“What advice would you give your younger self?”

And of course people throw all sorts of nonsense out there about what they would tell their younger selves, about how if their younger self listened to their older self, their lives would be better somehow.

It’s all bullshit of course. What advice would I tell my younger self? Not a goddamn thing. Why not? Because my younger self had it all figured out and had all the answers and wouldn’t listen to guy an older guy like me, not even when it was me. It’s truly awesome being a late teen/early twenty something and you know it all.

Same thing could be said about my friend that I ended up killing. He had all the answers too, and you couldn’t tell him anything. Since he had all the answers and his life was such shit, I figured that all he wanted to do was die, so I obliged him.

One night I snuck into his house, creeped up to his bed, and woke him up when I put the barrel of a gun against his forehead.

It was so quick that he didn’t have time to say anything. But his eyes. Oh his eyes said all sorts of things. Mostly pleading with me not to kill him. But kill him I did. He needed it. He had it coming. And I’m glad I did it. Like I said earlier, I would do it again. The only thing I would do differently is I would have killed him sooner than I did.

The day after I killed my friend I told my now ex-wife that I wanted a divorce.

I won’t bore you with the details of that set of conversations and dramas, suffice it to say that ultimately here we are.

One of the things that I did say to my ex-wife though was this:

“Don’t consider this a divorce. Consider it a funeral. The Man you knew and loved and fell in love with is dead. I killed him. The Man standing before you looks just like him, so much so it could be his identical twin, but I’m not that Man that you married.”

Yes I killed him. Guilty as charged. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.

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When Cancer Strikes Close To Home Part 2

Rob Says1 Comment

purple crocus in bloom during daytime

So the 4 to 6 week time line didn’t go as expected. Turns out my Mother had only a few hours left in her life to live.

She died on September 17th at 5:00 pm MST.

She died about 8 hours after I posted my last post.

I’m writing this mostly on Tuesday, the day after. I’m numb and sort of in shock. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. Even though I knew it was coming, I still thought I had more time. It seems unreal. At least I got to see her one last time before she died and I got to tell her that I loved her and that I would be okay after she was gone. Both my Father and me will be okay.

On Tuesday the 18th, I went with my close extended family and my Father to the mortuary to discuss what’s the next step.

My Father decided to bury her instead of cremate her because he needs and wants a final resting place for her. Somewhere he can go and talk to her. I support his decision for him. I’m good with that.

I never realized what a racket the death industry is until Tuesday. Coffins ain’t cheap. A burial plot ain’t cheap. The vault that the coffin goes in ain’t cheap. The headstone ain’t cheap. I’m not entirely sure at the moment, but I believe my Dad is into it about close to $10,000. Apparently that is cheap considering other people have paid more for this “service.”

After we got done at the mortuary, we went for lunch and talked about everything and nothing. We talked about the shit my Mom has said and done over the years. We talked about people we knew well, we talked about people that were acquaintances at best.

All I wanted to do was drink myself into oblivion. I had a few and got a good, and I mean a real good buzz going on and then went home and began to type this up.

It’s the only way right now that I can cope with the thoughts in my head and the silence that is surrounding me.

The girlfriend is in Europe for 3 months. I won’t see her until December. She knows what is going on because we talk for a bit every day. She’s offered to come home early, but I told her to enjoy her trip, there’s nothing that she can do. It won’t bring my Mom back. I miss both of them so dearly. It hurts just thinking about it.

Death is absurd. So is life when you think about it.

On one hand, I miss my Mom so much, and I know that that particular pain hasn’t even really sunk in yet. The viewing will be on Friday the 21st from 6 to 8 pm. The funeral itself will be on Saturday the 22nd and it starts at 10:30 am. I think. Maybe closer to 11. I don’t remember right at this moment.

So on one hand I miss my Mom, and on the other, I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I’m truly free of her. I can truly do what I want and be who I want without her gaze and her judgment. My life feels truly like it is my own. Maybe that makes me a terrible, selfish person, maybe not. Either way, it’s my choice now.

My girlfriend’s family has offered to come up to support me during the funeral, to be there in my girlfriend’s stead. I told them that that wouldn’t be necessary, I’ll be alright.

Maybe they’ll come up, maybe they won’t. Either way, I’m good with it. It’ll be great if they do, it’ll be fine if they don’t. I have no expectations either way.

My Father is 67 years old as I write this. He is a good man. He’s pretty good at being a man too. Some of my earliest “red pilling” came at his hands many years ago.

This will be the first chapter in his life where he is truly calling his own shots and doing whatever he wants to do. He won’t have to feel guilt for not going to the hospital to sit with my Mom. He won’t have to be a caregiver anymore. He can now do whatever he wants to do. I’m happy for him and I’m excited for him as well. He has plans. As he says, and I quote, “I’ve got shit to do.” I look forward to whatever it is that he’s going to do from here on out.

Death and life are absurd. We create all of these expectations and have ideas of what life is truly about and what we think it should be.

The truth is, life just is what it is. You keep on keeping on. It’s punctuated with highs and lows, and in the middle is where you keep on keeping on.

You get to decide what you want to do with your life. Nothing and nobody can truly hold you back except yourself. Not your Mother. Not your Father. Not even society to a large degree. Just you. Your thoughts, your hopes, your expectations. That’s all that is truly holding you back, and that’s all it’s ever been really.

That all being said, the grass isn’t necessarily greener on the other side. There are consequences for the choices that you make. You may do things that make your life more incredible than you could have ever possibly imagined. You could fuck things up so bad that there’s no coming back from it too. Remember that. You can choose to do whatever you want, but can’t always escape the consequences of your choices.

Keep on keeping on. Life is what it is. The grass isn’t necessarily greener on the other side. You can have anything you want, but you’ll also have to accept the consequences of having whatever it is that you got.

There are no do overs in life. There’s just life. Consider the consequences of the choices you are making or are about to make and then choose accordingly.

Even writing about life and death is absurd. It’s all absurd to one degree or another. In the end there are no rules.

I’ve run out of things to say for now. Now I’m choosing to stop writing and I’m going to drink myself into a stupor. Maybe not my best choice, but it’s what I choose for the moment. I accept the consequences of my choice. Judge me if you want. I don’t care. Your judgment and my own judgment really mean nothing in the long run, and they are both absurd as well.

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