norbert

[smileswhf]

It's been almost 4 years since you killed yourself. I've been trying to write this for almost all of that time. Your death has left a hole in my life where you used to be.

You died 6 weeks before DG was born. There was such an immediacy to my life. Things were huge. And those little babies are very in the now. Life condensed into 4 hour segments. There is crying and feeding and rocking and staring. And in the interstices there was missing you. I still cry when I think of you and how much I've lost with your passing. Do I need to quantify that? I guess after 4 years I should. In all of my life, there have been 3 people who have known me and accepted me for who I am. One of them is you. You were the keeper of the secret self.

In the past when I've mourned the loss of someone dear, I've thought about how that person changed my life. You had a hand in keeping me young -- encouraging me to explore new technologies and to experience the internet the way you do. I've thought about those who changed the way I live my life. And but for you, I probably wouldn't be where I am now. All those long, lonely nights when you talked to be for 3-4 hours is the only reason I stayed in Louisiana when I had no friends and my job was awful. Because of you I had time to invest in a relationship with a awesome guy. I remember once I said, "Yeah, J has US RDA Grade A stamped on his butt." Your reply, "Either that or Intel inside." You were funny. You were non-judgemental. You were accepting. Acceptance is a rare and wonderful thing in this world.

I'm not good at making friends. Most of the close friends I have are people who pursued me until I relented. I understand that I will never replace you.
I'm ok with that. What I'm not ok with is that when you died I lost my voice. Somehow, there is no longer anyone who cares what I say. I guess there is just no one to listen closely enough any more. I could hold it in for a while, but I can't any more. There needs to be a place for me to be now. I can't hold it in anymore.

I miss you. I so miss you. I miss telling you about this amazing person who came into my life. I miss having someone listen to me whine when that person screams every day for a year and a half. And I miss the sound of your voice when out of the blue you said, "there is no way she won't grow up enjoying to read." And I want to tell you that yes, she loves books and I think she will love to read. I want to tell you that marriage is both comforting and stifling. I want to tell you that my secret self wants to bask in the sunlight of acceptance. And mostly, I just want to talk to you again.

I still search the internet for you. Every year, you fade a little more. Startups where you logged and blogged go belly up and you get erased. It won't bring you back, those old blog posts. It won't fill the holes where you used to be. And I know there will never be another you.

RIP, Norbert Debaldwin Taylor, May 25, 2009

Comments

[ivy]

Grief is hard, and you have my sympathies.