Help Me Honor My Best Friend's Name
When Brian and I first met, I didn’t really know what to make of him. He was an incoming Kindergartener and I was an incoming 1st grader at a very small Jewish day school called Solomon Schechter, in Pompton Lakes. All the other kids were in normal school-wear - ugly earth-tones in horizontal stripes, khaki shorts, little Nike sneakers (as was the fashion of the time)… but on orientation, poor Brian was wearing a suit with no tie, white shirt with shiny black shoes and everything. I felt bad for him. He wasn’t really getting along with everyone at first, but he carried on, playing soccer with himself and kicking around that little soccer ball with his shiny little shoes. I was about 5 years old, but even then, I knew that there was something brave about him, carrying on the way he did, doing his own thing. You could say that he was like that all the way through life, collecting friends and not being afraid to be himself, engaging everyone he met, no matter how diverse in background. You could also say that, with as many friends as he had, every friend he had was his best friend.
His mom eventually eased up (I wasn’t so lucky) and dressed him up like a normal kid. He had an affinity for all things sports, but would indulge my crazy desire to stay indoors all day and play video games on even the sunniest of days. He would eventually get me to come outside and play soccer, baseball, etc, and would never make me feel or look bad for being really crappy at sports… and I even enjoyed playing sports with him, more than I ever have with anyone, even if I would’ve much rather have quit and went back to playing video games with him. We shared a lot of dark little perverted thoughts. We weren’t afraid of being judged by one another. There wasn’t a question that we were the friends of legend, even though we were so different, in so many ways.
I wish I had put the controller down and played more ball with him. I wish I realized, sooner, that moving to NYC wasn’t the death sentence of our best friendship. I wish we had invited each other to crazy high school and college parties. We would’ve introduced each other and had a blast. We could’ve been there for each other; when all of the other fuckers I had made friends with eventually abandoned me, he could’ve been there to remind me where true friendship lies. I wish I had picked up the phone more often while he was under care, after being diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Hell, I wish I wasn’t so preoccupied with my own dramas to understand that my friend might possibly die.
I try not to blame myself too much, as difficult as it is - I thought he would pull through. And he did! …for a nice while. When he got sick again, I felt so helpless. I tried, still, to stay hopeful. Brian had so much life left to live that I couldn’t believe dying was even a possibility. It wouldn’t’ve been fair.
It’s not fair. Hearing, reading, or typing his name still has me in tears. As I type this, I’ve had to stop so many times to collect my thoughts and stop myself from crying. It’s the sole reason why I haven’t been pressing my sister’s triathlon campaign - she’s partaking in the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training triathlon, in loving memory of my best friend, Brian Nabatian.
Cancer, it seems, takes the strongest of us. It takes the people we love away from us no matter how much we love them. It takes us when we’re young, old, sick, or on top of our game. The problem I have with it, though, isn’t so much in the idea that it can take us at any time, like getting hit by a bus or having your heart just stop. It’s the constant, shifting motions, and how our friends and relatives struggling to stay positive in the face of absolute helplessness. The waiting and watching. We do what we can, but cancer takes us slowly. We’re lucky and thankful when we beat it and feel utterly cheated when we don’t. At least, I do.
I write this, not to tell you about my feelings, but to garner your support. If your support means even ONE more best friend is saved from this indiscriminate disease, then I would be doing right by him. Please consider “Like”ing my sister’s Team in Training page. If it’s within your power, try to donate. Whether or not you’re able to donate, it would be EXTREMELY beneficial if you could spread the word to all your friends and, perhaps, it might reach the folks that can give, freely, from their hearts. Include a personal note to have them pass the word along - and so on, and so forth. ANY AMOUNT you decide to give helps my sister reach her fundraising goal. If she can’t reach it, she can’t participate. As candid and expressive as I’ve been throughout this entire post, I can’t even properly express to you how crushing it would be if Adina couldn’t participate in LLS’s triathlon. It would be a personal tragedy. Please help me in whatever way you can - Adina & I can’t do this alone.
Thank you for reading this: my ode to Brian. Please click the link below to help me honor his name.
http://facebook.com/AdinaCameoLLS
PS - Brian's dying wish was that I spread the word about Gift of Life, a bone marrow registry. If you had the power to actively save a person's life, would you? Please head over to http://swabacheek.org and get all the facts. I know that some of you are afraid of what donating marrow or blood stem cells entails - reading the materials sets your mind at ease and gets you excited about literally saving someone's life. Please consider doing this, if it's within your power.
His mom eventually eased up (I wasn’t so lucky) and dressed him up like a normal kid. He had an affinity for all things sports, but would indulge my crazy desire to stay indoors all day and play video games on even the sunniest of days. He would eventually get me to come outside and play soccer, baseball, etc, and would never make me feel or look bad for being really crappy at sports… and I even enjoyed playing sports with him, more than I ever have with anyone, even if I would’ve much rather have quit and went back to playing video games with him. We shared a lot of dark little perverted thoughts. We weren’t afraid of being judged by one another. There wasn’t a question that we were the friends of legend, even though we were so different, in so many ways.
I wish I had put the controller down and played more ball with him. I wish I realized, sooner, that moving to NYC wasn’t the death sentence of our best friendship. I wish we had invited each other to crazy high school and college parties. We would’ve introduced each other and had a blast. We could’ve been there for each other; when all of the other fuckers I had made friends with eventually abandoned me, he could’ve been there to remind me where true friendship lies. I wish I had picked up the phone more often while he was under care, after being diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Hell, I wish I wasn’t so preoccupied with my own dramas to understand that my friend might possibly die.
I try not to blame myself too much, as difficult as it is - I thought he would pull through. And he did! …for a nice while. When he got sick again, I felt so helpless. I tried, still, to stay hopeful. Brian had so much life left to live that I couldn’t believe dying was even a possibility. It wouldn’t’ve been fair.
It’s not fair. Hearing, reading, or typing his name still has me in tears. As I type this, I’ve had to stop so many times to collect my thoughts and stop myself from crying. It’s the sole reason why I haven’t been pressing my sister’s triathlon campaign - she’s partaking in the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training triathlon, in loving memory of my best friend, Brian Nabatian.
Cancer, it seems, takes the strongest of us. It takes the people we love away from us no matter how much we love them. It takes us when we’re young, old, sick, or on top of our game. The problem I have with it, though, isn’t so much in the idea that it can take us at any time, like getting hit by a bus or having your heart just stop. It’s the constant, shifting motions, and how our friends and relatives struggling to stay positive in the face of absolute helplessness. The waiting and watching. We do what we can, but cancer takes us slowly. We’re lucky and thankful when we beat it and feel utterly cheated when we don’t. At least, I do.
I write this, not to tell you about my feelings, but to garner your support. If your support means even ONE more best friend is saved from this indiscriminate disease, then I would be doing right by him. Please consider “Like”ing my sister’s Team in Training page. If it’s within your power, try to donate. Whether or not you’re able to donate, it would be EXTREMELY beneficial if you could spread the word to all your friends and, perhaps, it might reach the folks that can give, freely, from their hearts. Include a personal note to have them pass the word along - and so on, and so forth. ANY AMOUNT you decide to give helps my sister reach her fundraising goal. If she can’t reach it, she can’t participate. As candid and expressive as I’ve been throughout this entire post, I can’t even properly express to you how crushing it would be if Adina couldn’t participate in LLS’s triathlon. It would be a personal tragedy. Please help me in whatever way you can - Adina & I can’t do this alone.
Thank you for reading this: my ode to Brian. Please click the link below to help me honor his name.
http://facebook.com/AdinaCameoLLS
PS - Brian's dying wish was that I spread the word about Gift of Life, a bone marrow registry. If you had the power to actively save a person's life, would you? Please head over to http://swabacheek.org and get all the facts. I know that some of you are afraid of what donating marrow or blood stem cells entails - reading the materials sets your mind at ease and gets you excited about literally saving someone's life. Please consider doing this, if it's within your power.