The day a large piece of me died · 5:43am Dec 23rd, 2019
You know, I don't do this often, but I've had some time to think about some pretty heavy and touchy things that have personally happened to me in the past few years, but the main one comes from 2017 in May.
If you've stuck around long enough, you'll know that May of that year was especially hard for me to live through because I was the last to find out somebody very close to me, a person whom I considered my second dad, passed away. If that wasn't bad enough, I had no choice but to miss his funeral because I was out of the country at the time it took place, which is an event I'll have to live with for life.
This person is really the point of this blog because it marked an important part of my life, mainly about my very self as a human. Well, to put it in laments terms, when I found out my friend had died, considering how close we were, all of the times we had together, how he treated me and my brother like his own sons, how we met through my mother, those hour-long talks we'd have all the time, and that time we sat together on the couch and he let me play his cherished acoustic guitar while making up a song about my mother's cat, Puss Cat. A large chunk of me died inside that day and I haven't been the same since.
I know, I talk about him quite a lot, but I don't know how else to deal with it. Crying won't bring him back, obviously, and I'm dried up on that part at the moment, so even if I wanted to, I can't, but his presence on this planet and in my life meant more to me than I can put into words, so knowing that I'll never see him again, hear his soothing voice, get to hang out with him like we always did, jam together, have a laugh, have those long conversations, it hurts. I never got to say goodbye to him, so my one chance to say that is completely erased.
Shortly after his funeral had passed and I was back in the country, the sorrow within me was anchoring me down horribly, so I remember feeling like I had to write a song or maybe a piece of expressive, anecdotal poetry to get it out of me, or at least some of it from my system, so I ended up writing a memorial song for him called Memory of a Star, which is written on the backplate of my first guitar in black pen, which I keep wrapped in bubble wrap and stashed in my ottoman. One day, I plan to record it and put it on a record or release it as a solo piece. It's really all I have, but it won't simply be for my own expression; it'll be for everyone who's lost somebody they cared about, be it a friend or a family member.
I only wish I could have had one last day to spend with him when he wasn't bed-ridden or stuck in the hospital where I couldn't see him. I want one last time with the man in good health that I remember and love, but it won't happen. It was terrible seeing him like that, and nobody should have to see a person they care about in a dreadful condition like that, not at all.
But yeah, man, I miss you terribly and I wish you were here to keep me company so we can hang out and jam together, like we always used to do. Life isn't the same without you around, and it affected me worse than I let on, same with my brother. You meant more to us than you'll know, and I know you loved us all the same. RIP, man. As we used to say, ''Light me up, Johnny!''
I miss you so much.
- Ribe 💛☮🎸
I can sort of relate because in Spring of 2011 I would to my paternal grandmother's funeral and not even a few days after I got back from that I was hanging out with a friend of mine and I found out that a mutual friend of ours head committed suicide. We used to go out to his parents place outside of town because there was a shed there that had been turned into a jam space.
When he died it was rough my friend who told me about it and I wrote a song in memory of this mutual friend of ours called "I'll be seeing you". I would like to record that along with the other songs that I've written since my last CD but until then they just have to stay written down on paper and in my head.
I very nearly was not there for my father's passing. I thank God that I was able to be there during his final moments, I'm sorry that you were not able to be there.
I hope they are resting peacefully