Bookended by Bad Times

Ok so on Thursday,  I went to the funeral mass for my cousin’s husband’s brother, Stan. He was 82, nobody knows what he died of,  there was no autopsy. I barely knew him, just saw each other at various holidays. Nice, quiet man. Guitarist.

It was a relatively small gathering as I’ve seen funerals go. Very sad to see his siblings, nieces and loved ones crying as they missed their loved one.

That’s the worst part, in my opinion.  Those that are left behind.  The person dying is a tragedy for the person dying, obviously. But we all have to die.  As weird and frightening as that seems, none of us are getting out alive. And nobody can say what’s after life for sure. Nobody can state fact of what lies beyond,  it’s personal faith. Though it seems real to many, who really knows?  But many say something is beyond life, so maybe it’s not the worst for the deceased.

But for those who are left behind,  it’s bad. I’ll be honest, in bad times, I sometimes think what it would be like if something happened to me or if I did something to myself.

Let’s be clear,  I’m NOT doing anything,  nor have I ever came close,  but I let a passing thought come for a minute. And in that minute, the thing that makes me the saddest is picturing my loved ones grieving. That’s tragic.

When I was a kid, I almost died in an accident and many worried about me for over 3 weeks.  That alone was weeping and worry that I regret causing.

And today,  seeing them cry for Stan, so completely sad. And on a long enough timeline, it’s ultimately unavoidable for all of us.  We are all going to eventually cause grief with our deaths.

I tgen went home and did some job search stuff this morning.  Then got a mass text from my friend Darren. His brother Petey passed away Thursday morning.

Petey was just 49, had lung complications since September and failure since November. He left behind a wife, 5 kids (2 younger,  3 step kids were older). Such a devastating blow to many.

Since Petey was 6 years older than me,  we never really spoke, he was older and a Guido tough guy, but I’ve been around him enough since I met Darren in 1986. I remember Petey didn’t know my name once and referred to me as “Mr Intelligence” because I was nerdy.

Plus Darren named me Godfather to his daughter. So I’m entrenched in that family,  I’m not going anywhere.

I made sure to go over Darren’s parents house in Queens Thursday evening to see everyone except Petey’s wife and kids, who live way out on Long Island. To my surprise, nobody cried, they were all still in shock. The tears will come.

So very sad. The mother said it was possibly related to Petey volunteering at Ground Zero for a while after Sept 11. Well see what the autopsy shows.

His services will be awful, filled with howling grieving.

Rest in Peace, Petey.


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