Dear God

Dear God, sorry to disturb you, but... I feel that I should be heard loud and clear. We all need a big reduction in amount of tears
"Dear God" - XTC

I remember the times after my father died. I was still in high school, and I was in a lot of pain. My mom and I were both distant from each other, more distant than we had ever been before.

I met a guy a grade below me named Mike, who acted like as much of an outsider as I felt. He had moved to Mechanicsburg from Massachusetts and could not have stood out more. More importantly though, he liked the same things I did: Shakespeare, Monty Python, Sonic Youth, potato tennis. It was bound to be friendship from the start.

Mike filled a part of the emptiness in my heart, and I was glad for his friendship. I loved him dearly like a brother. It wasn't long until I was hanging out at his house. His parents had a fabulous collection of old vinyl records and a working record player and we would get together with friends and play the Rolling Stones or Iron Butterfly and play hacky-sack. We'd assemble in Mike's basement and pretend to be a band clattering on old drums and second-hand electric guitars. We'd go outside in the dark of Mike's driveway and smoke cigars. We'd sit on his couch and watch anime and eat cherry pies and drink Mt. Dew.

During that time spent at Mike's house, Mike's house felt like a second home to me. I got to know Mike's mom and dad, and they were surrogate parents to me. While my mom was busy with work and her own mourning, I became an addition to Mike's family, so that Mike's mom called me "Son #2", and I called her "Mom 2". She would hug me everytime she saw me, and ask me how I was doing, and how school was going.

They always treated me well, fed me, let me hang out at odd hours, and made me feel welcome. I loved them as much as I loved Mike, and I feel that it was their love and acceptance that, in part, kept me steady for many years.

Today, I learned that Mike's mom passed away suddenly this holiday weekend. One minute alive and vibrant, spending the holiday with Mike and his wife, and then the next, snatched from her husband and children. Life can be cruel, the way it vanishes so quickly. I tried to speak some positive words when Mike told me. She got to see Mike graduate from college, and get married to a woman that's crazy about him, but those are hollow consolations in the face of the raw anguish Mike's feeling now.

I wish that I had some magic words to speak to ease the pain. I don't. I wish I could return her to life, and restore her to health, and give her back to her family. But I can't. I can't carry this burden for him. I can only be there for him, and listen to him, and cry with him when he mourns for her. I'll have to reach out to him at the holidays and make sure he's not too distraught. And maybe, maybe, I can now help him put the pieces of his life back together in the aftermath of sorrow, as they helped me.

Rest in peace, Mom 2. I'll miss you, and I'll try to help Mike as much as I can. I promise.