On the passing of a friend
So, I lost a friend the other day. Now, I have been through this before. I have lost friends to gunfire, suicide, drug OD (accidental, rather than intended) and motorcycle accidents... I have lost a lot of friends to motorcycle accidents. But this friend, as far as is known, died of “natural causes”, even though he was younger than me. I most heartily do not wish to be of an age where I start losing friends to natural causes.
It is familiar, this pain of losing a friend. I am accustomed to it; the short, sharp stab of shock and disbelief, followed by the deepening pain that comes with knowing. Then a time of regrets, of times not spent and things not said… drinks not bought. Then after that, the sort of vague hollow feeling that settles into your gut and slowly, over days, or weeks dissapates out from there into your entire body, until after a while, the only feeling you have left is a vague sense of something missing, or “less” about the world, and yourself.
His name was Mutie, which was short for Mutante… but we all knew him as Mutie.
And for those of you on my Flist, who are just now finding out about Mutie’s passing by reading this… I apologize. Reading about a friends death in a Blog is akin to finding out about a friends death by seeing the accident on the evening news. Been there, done that… it sucks. I waited a few days after I got word of his death to post this, to allow time for the news to filter through his circles of friends and acquaintances.
But this is how I deal with things, be it great joy or great sadness; I write about them, or make art with them, and then throw them out to the world for the universe to do with what it will.
As far as anyone knows, Mutie died suddenly, alone, and in his sleep; it looks like his heart just kind of gave out.
Mutie was a giant of a man. (the women with him in this picture are not short!)
I am tall (6’1”), but the top of my head barely came up to his shoulders. And giant people, weather they be giant in stature, or giant in spirit, tend to not live very long. And Mutie was both.
I suppose I could rattle on and on, telling stories about times I had with Mutie at Man-Ray, or this or that party or LARP etc. etc. etc. But I won’t. If you knew him, you knew him, and if you did not, then I am sorry, for he was a truly interesting human being.
He was one of the most physical people I have ever met. He loved life. And he loved being alive. He loved to touch, to feel, and to hold, to taste and to smell. He was passionate about everything he did, from heavy fighting in the SCA lists, to playing a drunken were-wolf at a LARP. He took advantage of his size, and made his living as a bouncer, repo-man, and other such professions. He could (and did on several occasions!), pick me up with one hand and toss me over his shoulder!
He was one of the very few male friends I have ever had. I get along well with women, but very, very seldom do I find a male that I can get along with. Mutie was one such. He was a fiercely loyal friend, and companion of many a 3 am drinking party.
Most everyone who knew Mutie, agrees it is better that he went this way, early in his life. His journey through this life was not an easy one, nor was he easy on himself. Mutie was not one to deal well with limitations of any kind, but most especially physical ones. He would not have dealt well, or gracefully with the slow but steady physical decline that advancing age brings. Already, the numerous concussions, cracked or broken ribs, torn muscles and back injuries had taken their toll. Yes, it is better I think that he went when he did. Better for him of course, not for those of us left behind. It always sucks to be left behind.
Rest in Peace
Mutante my Friend
You were a better person than you knew, and your presence in this world will be sorely missed.
Already, the pain, for me anyway, is lessening; fading from the time of regrets, to the vague hollow empty feeling in my gut. Within a few weeks, it will become that “something missing” feeling, which will gradually lessen over time, until it will only be called up when I hear his name mentioned, or see a picture of him somewhere.
The pain of losing a friend… what a hell of a thing to be “accustomed” to.
It is familiar, this pain of losing a friend. I am accustomed to it; the short, sharp stab of shock and disbelief, followed by the deepening pain that comes with knowing. Then a time of regrets, of times not spent and things not said… drinks not bought. Then after that, the sort of vague hollow feeling that settles into your gut and slowly, over days, or weeks dissapates out from there into your entire body, until after a while, the only feeling you have left is a vague sense of something missing, or “less” about the world, and yourself.
His name was Mutie, which was short for Mutante… but we all knew him as Mutie.
And for those of you on my Flist, who are just now finding out about Mutie’s passing by reading this… I apologize. Reading about a friends death in a Blog is akin to finding out about a friends death by seeing the accident on the evening news. Been there, done that… it sucks. I waited a few days after I got word of his death to post this, to allow time for the news to filter through his circles of friends and acquaintances.
But this is how I deal with things, be it great joy or great sadness; I write about them, or make art with them, and then throw them out to the world for the universe to do with what it will.
As far as anyone knows, Mutie died suddenly, alone, and in his sleep; it looks like his heart just kind of gave out.
Mutie was a giant of a man. (the women with him in this picture are not short!)
I am tall (6’1”), but the top of my head barely came up to his shoulders. And giant people, weather they be giant in stature, or giant in spirit, tend to not live very long. And Mutie was both.
I suppose I could rattle on and on, telling stories about times I had with Mutie at Man-Ray, or this or that party or LARP etc. etc. etc. But I won’t. If you knew him, you knew him, and if you did not, then I am sorry, for he was a truly interesting human being.
He was one of the most physical people I have ever met. He loved life. And he loved being alive. He loved to touch, to feel, and to hold, to taste and to smell. He was passionate about everything he did, from heavy fighting in the SCA lists, to playing a drunken were-wolf at a LARP. He took advantage of his size, and made his living as a bouncer, repo-man, and other such professions. He could (and did on several occasions!), pick me up with one hand and toss me over his shoulder!
He was one of the very few male friends I have ever had. I get along well with women, but very, very seldom do I find a male that I can get along with. Mutie was one such. He was a fiercely loyal friend, and companion of many a 3 am drinking party.
Most everyone who knew Mutie, agrees it is better that he went this way, early in his life. His journey through this life was not an easy one, nor was he easy on himself. Mutie was not one to deal well with limitations of any kind, but most especially physical ones. He would not have dealt well, or gracefully with the slow but steady physical decline that advancing age brings. Already, the numerous concussions, cracked or broken ribs, torn muscles and back injuries had taken their toll. Yes, it is better I think that he went when he did. Better for him of course, not for those of us left behind. It always sucks to be left behind.
Rest in Peace
Mutante my Friend
You were a better person than you knew, and your presence in this world will be sorely missed.
Already, the pain, for me anyway, is lessening; fading from the time of regrets, to the vague hollow empty feeling in my gut. Within a few weeks, it will become that “something missing” feeling, which will gradually lessen over time, until it will only be called up when I hear his name mentioned, or see a picture of him somewhere.
The pain of losing a friend… what a hell of a thing to be “accustomed” to.