Of Grief and Joy [SS 1: Eulogy for an Old Friendship]

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Eulogy for an Old Friendship
Chapter 1

"'Good afternoon students. I hope you've had a wonderful day at Cedar Rock High School today.' I sat up at the sound of Principle DeValt on the intercom at 3:17. 'We have a few short announcements for you today-' DeValt's voice was drowned out by the sound of notebooks being shut and book bags being zipped up. It was another boring day at 'Shitty Rock' and I was completely worn out by the stress of being in prison. Okay, not prison; but the room I was in had no windows leading anywhere. I began to wonder if I'd ever be released. I heard the distinctive click of the intercom turning off. No more intercom means no more class. Which means that I'm allowed to 'go to my bus'. I usually left the class at the same e the bus riders left because I wouldn't be able to stand being in class another ten minutes.

'Bye Mrs. Wright' I muttered to the Drama teacher as I opened the door to leave. When I got to James' car I set my stuff down and then leaned against it. James, being my one and only good friend since elementary school. He's the only person that ever actually saw me as a friend. As I sat and waited for James to leave the building with the other car riders I thought of all the good times we've had together. Spending the night at his house. Playing videogames, watching movies, and listening to music. He was basically my brother. Recently though he's been horribly reclusive. He hates going out to do things. On a day where we would usually go to the mall, he would drop me off at home and then he'd go home and listen to music. I saw him coming out of the building. Being nearly six and a half feet tall with unkempt chin length dark brown hair, James was easy to pick out of a crowd. When he got closer I could tell he was in one of his moods.

"Hey man." I said lamely.

"Hey." He answered back monotonously. He unlocked his car and I placed my guitar in the back seat and threw my back pack into the seat next to it. He got in the car and turned on the music. "Lets go." He said far less monotonous.

'Dude, what's up?'

'Nothing much. Kind of tired. I think I'm gonna go to bed when I get home.'

'What's been up with you lately? You seem a little… I don't know, depressed.'

'Don't worry about it: I'm fine.' But he didn't sound fine. He always had this aura of sadness around him at the end of the day. I got into the passenger seat of the old land rover while he changed the disks in the back.

'O.k.,' He said as he sat down, closed the door and reached for his seat belt all at one time, 'Let's listen to some Bob Marley.' I guess I had no choice.

No matter where you were, you could always count on James to always have good music at his finger tips. Some times he'd scare me though. Like for one thing he doesn't like ACDC. Who doesn't like ACDC? Oh well.

Speaking of James and music,James played guitar so much better than I did that I tortured my poor little fingers trying to beat him in skill and theory. Hell, he started playing when I taught him his first C chord. It was terrible - the C chord that is. He could hardly play a single note correctly. I still laugh to this day because I started playing guitar two years before he did, and he nearly mastered the skill within six short, uneventful years. He once told me the reason he started playing. I laughed so hard that I fell over. He said the most cliché thing you could possibly think of.

'I thought it would help me get girls and be cool.' He actually said that. I thought I was going to crap my pants from laughing so hard. Sadly, that's all past us now. That was the last day I saw James. February 6th, 2008 at 4:30 p.m. was the last I would ever see him. Another normal day at 'Shitty Rock' High School. Another boring evening at home. Blissfully unaware."
 

~*~

 
Chapter 2

"James was my best friend for ten years. My only friend. I don't know how, or why he left. I guess he just got tired. Tired of all the shit in his life. His mom and dad divorced. His mom evicted and barely scraping by on minimum wage while his dad lived the High life in a huge neighborhood with huge houses with a huge income and many other huge things that the wealthy desire and obtain and the poor couldn't even dream of.

James got his Land Rover for Christmas in 2007. The first time he drove to where his mom was living in the Land Rover was emotional and depressing. His mom burst out into tears because she wasn't able to get him anything for Christmas at all while his Dad got him a car and nearly doubled his CD collection. I know for a fact that his mother's current state of living was a reason for his depressed nature.

Yes, I can definitely say that James was simply tired of all the shit. The next day at school, I didn't see him anywhere. I just assumed he was sick. Little did I know that he just decided to leave. Leave the state, probably even the country. He just got tired and decided to pack up and leave. I don't know how he survived on his own, but he did one way or another. Looking at him now, I know he never got to wherever it was he was going.

The one thing that I always regret in my life is that I never had the chance to tell James about me. We never opened up to each other like old friends. Even though he was the only anchor I had to this world for quite some time, I don't think he ever realized it. I tried sharing my life with him several times but could almost never work up the courage to day something. The only times I could muster the bravado to express things that I don't express to anyone, little old Tom would be there.

The stumpy long haired red head always had a knack for destroying my confidence with his narrow mindedness. I don't think that James would have disowned me as a friend if I opened up to him like I wanted, but I know that Tom would do something stupid to dampen the emotion of anything I tried saying.

If I could have one wish in my life time, it wouldn't be to be born the way I wish I was born. If I could have one wish, I would wish that I had the courage to share my emotions with James. I never express my emotions publicly. If something upsets me to the point of tears, I don't cry until I'm alone. If I'm angry, I bottle it. My greatest flaw of all. If I'm ever angry at you, you'll never see me coming.

I'll never forget that day. The last thing I said to him, and his empty response.

'I hope you feel better tomorrow.'
'Yeah. Well. See yah.'

And if nothing else, I'll always remember his face as he turned back to look at me, before driving off and away from where I stood. It didn't register in my head as sadness. Puffy red eyes, pale white face, the corners of his mouth turned down- he turned back, waved, and I never saw him again.

And now I stand here again. , reminiscing and wishing for what might have been…"

"We are gathered here today in remembrance…"
 

~*~

 
Chapter 3

"… in remembrance of James Lietman. I don't have much else to say but good bye. I'll never have that chance or ability. It has been fifty-three years since I last spoke to James; Fifty-one years since I began to transition. I doubt that James would recognize me if he was alive to see me today. I doubt that any of you recognize me. I imagine that Ms. 'Lilz' Lietman had some trouble contacting me because of my name change and drastic change in appearance. My legal name is now Jade Thomas Emanuel Barker. Lilz, your brother was a great friend in my life.

Now, about me. Why am I the one giving the eulogy for such a friend? Who am I? Most of you may remember a heavy set, puffy haired teenager that annoyed the hell out of everyone around him. Many people believed he was just gay, and many people just hated him for being different. I don't understand why, but the people that hated him abused him during middle school towards the point of suicide. This heavy set, annoying , puffy haired boy no longer exists. Now I stand before you today, a mere shadow of that boy. Many of you may be shocked to discover what became of this boy. This weird drama kid who starved for acceptance. Only to find acceptance in the one friend he had ever known. A friend and a brother.

I guess it all comes down to this. Friendships are living things. They are born by something that can be either extremely significant or completely pointless depending on your point of view. After a friendship is born it grows and matures and the peak of it's existence is defined by one extremely significant moment. Standing up to your friends enemies. Being with your friend in a tight situation. Discovering something about yourself through a friend. These are multiple different peaks of a friendships existence. But soon the friendship grows old. It becomes harder and harder to find one of these peaks. Soon your friendship begins to wither, becoming brittle and stale. You drift apart from one another and seek out other things. Differences establish between the personalities of you and your friend. For instance, one friend likes acting and the other friend doesn't like theatre. Finally, the friendship dies. It is inevitable. Friendships are either ended violently by a fight, peacefully from drifting apart, or abruptly from one of the friends death.

The friendship between James and I outlived many people. Ten years in fact. I don't know anyone that has had a friendship live this long. I'm glad to say that our friendship ended peacefully, though not gracefully. If only you could see me now. James old friend, if you can hear me, where ever you are; Farewell old friend. May you rest in peace."

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kristina l s's picture

This is very bare bones, a simple blend of memory and time. How true it is that things change, friendships drift and pass and often it's just because we don't try enough to hold on. Hindsight. The old, 'if only..' how often we use that and mean it after it is useful. I'm not sure what I think of this one. I almost want more of the story to base an opinion on, but... very often we don't know enough till much later, if ever.

Thoughtful and a bit wistful sort of says it. Skeletal too. Is there more to come?

Kristina

Glimpse

There will definately be a story to this.

This is a record of a kind of dream I had. The dream was of 'James' driving off with that look on his face. So I filled in the rest and this poured out.

'James' is my best friend, and I am having problems coming out as a girl to him. I've known him since I was seven years old and I believe that he might have problems with drastic change. Ten years is a huge amount of time for someone to call into question. I think that me telling him would be the thing that breaks our friendship. You know when you meet an old friend and there is an akward silence. Thats what scares me. I don't wan't that between me and him.

But yes. There will be more relating to this. But, not in this book. Of Grief and Joy is going to be more of a compilation of my works. I think I'll add some poetry next.

Thanks for the first comment.

Seems Heartfelt...

FWIW, the more I think about this story, in trying to write comments, the more effective it gets.

It's certainly intelligently written and emotionally genuine. Still, it's pretty empty, I think, to imagine that 53 years in the future, not only has James not found anyone important enough to him to give his eulogy; neither, it would appear, has the narrator, who knows no one with a close friendship of greater than ten years' duration.

(Does the narrator feel some grim satisfaction that James apparently never found anyone to replace him, or am I reading too much into that? She's certainly feeling positive about re-introducing herself as the "winner" over those in the audience who couldn't stand Tom at school all those years ago, but there can't be many such people listening to her: James wasn't well-liked at school either and he left town 53 years ago.)

One point: "Narrow-minded" doesn't seem to me to be what J.T. really means here. To me, that term describes an inability to conceive of or conceptually accept things outside of the norm. As I read this, that isn't Tom's problem. He's avoiding suicide by maintaining rigid emotional control against a world of actual and potential hurt and rejection. He can't afford to talk to anyone about abnormality, or let people know what he's feeling. But I see no suggestion that he's keeping his mind narrow or unbending. Not sure what words I'd suggest, but something connoting rigidity or constraint would seem more appropriate.

Eric

Read Carefully

Still, it's pretty empty, I think, to imagine that 53 years in the future, not only has James not found anyone important enough to him to give his eulogy; neither, it would appear, has the narrator, who knows no one with a close friendship of greater than ten years' duration.

I have my reasons for why I wrote what I wrote. You'll understand later. Maybe.

(Does the narrator feel some grim satisfaction that James apparently never found anyone to replace him, or am I reading too much into that? She's certainly feeling positive about re-introducing herself as the "winner" over those in the audience

Actually I tried to portray that James' life fell appart and he eventually just broke down. It's not satisfaction, it's that the narrator is depressed that life didn't work out for him like it did for the narrator.
And why shouldn't the narrator feel positive about re-introducing herself to her tormentors. I wanted to show a "Thanks for all the crap. It made me who I am today" attitude.

who couldn't stand Tom at school all those years ago, but there can't be many such people listening to her: James wasn't well-liked at school either and he left town 53 years ago.)

'Tom' isn't someone the narrator can't stand. He's actually a good friend of the narrator. Tom (obviously) is based off of someone I know. I was watching "Hedwig and the Angry Inch" once, and he happened to come in during the sex change scene... Needless to say he expressed his feelings for that. But it's not that I can't stand the real 'Tom' it's more like he has his moments.

One point: "Narrow-minded" doesn't seem to me to be what J.T. really means here. To me, that term describes an inability to conceive of or conceptually accept things outside of the norm. As I read this, that isn't Tom's problem. He's avoiding suicide by maintaining rigid emotional control against a world of actual and potential hurt and rejection. He can't afford to talk to anyone about abnormality, or let people know what he's feeling. But I see no suggestion that he's keeping his mind narrow or unbending. Not sure what words I'd suggest, but something connoting rigidity or constraint would seem more appropriate.

No, the real life 'Tom' is narrow minded. He doesn't understand why someone would want to "lop it all off down there" as he says. I don't usually hide meaning behind singular terms such as Narrow Minded. If I ever did, you would know.