In Memoriam T. S.

The boy I remember had the most natural of graces. His heart was large, his spirit continually active. If he was crude, forceful, or even a bit of a bully, it was because of the neighborhood kids and their broken views. He befriended them, sworn to help friends and harm enemies. He always meant well. I always enjoyed meeting him.

He had tremendous potential. He was brighter than I was, a quick study with evolved street smarts. He was sharp at games. I don’t know how good his Greek was or whether classes at the Orthodox church did much for him. I’m sure he picked up on quite a bit. He was a hard worker when younger, and when I stopped seeing him around, when I was at my high school and he was at his, I heard he was a very talented singer in choir. I know he was a hit with the ladies.

I am more understanding than ever before of the trap addiction and denial is. I know the strongest, smartest people banding together, wanting to change, struggle to defeat those demons. I know some of the people around him, while they made tremendous sacrifices, were doomed to fail in helping him fight his. There was the time a large butterfly landed on the back of his shirt and stayed there. It was beautiful and majestic in its ignorance. My dad tried to gently get it off, but it refused to budge. A friend of his fixed the issue by pushing it off with a broom and smashing it.

The only blame I assign in this situation is not to friends of his, but friends of mine. One in particular advised others to mind their own business when the situation screamed for anything else. It’s easy to drown others’ cries in what you assume knowledge, prudence, even morality. It’s a lot harder to admit that your selfishness and fear can make you hysterical, dangerous, and counterproductive.

I suspect that critique can extend to others he knew. In a way, there is only blame because the loss is so unnecessary, so damaging to all of us. I’ll never forget the time he begged me to be at his birthday party. He saw something in me and was happy to be with me. In those days, I was just awkward, talentless, spoiled and shallow. (I know – not much has changed.) I didn’t know anything except the paranoia of those older and my own greed. His friends, for all their faults, were much more gregarious, generous, assured. I had a blast with him, as I felt believed in.