Bike ride, another death and children

The weather is getting better.  I did ride my bike to work four days and could have a few more, although the wind was over 20 MPH, and I opted to drive.  The weather next week looks better.

For Christmas, I was given BarMitts for my road bike. I loved them in the morning, as I could ride with fingerless gloves. The hands provided the most incredible warmth on my body (besides the obvious location, the crotch). I only wish they were easy to remove for the ride home when they are not needed.

Been another tough few weeks.  Last week, I left a meeting and was told my co-worker had rushed off as her brother had just died unexpectedly.  Then I discovered my boss's father has cancer and is fighting for his life.  Then, on April 1, I was told that a very good friend's son had died.  I was really disgusted at such a cruel April Fools joke.  Then I found out it was true and it was not an accident.  I will never understand!

Thursday, I was walking at lunch with a 56-year-old friend who I knew had really been in a depressed state of being.  I thought it was just the deaths we experienced the past few months, with several suicides and just as many unexpected accidental deaths.  Between us, we now have personally experienced 16 deaths in the past 15 months, with 7 of those being under the age of 25.  However, after 10 minutes, she told me about her issues with her daughter.  I was surprised; I knew what she had done and would not expect issues.

I knew she needed to talk, so we quit walking and sat on the park bench next to the creek. I did not have an afternoon meeting, so I was prepared for a long lunch break and then working late to make up the time. She proceeded to tell me the issues she was having with her daughter. 

A little background, I have known her daughter for 18 years.  She raised her as a single mom, as the father left them when she was about a year old.  I have seen her sacrifices, working three jobs, and crying during challenging times when her daughter started to stay.  She was able to pull her back, but not without impacting her relationship and health.  She was there for all her daughters' life events.  She made sure her daughter went to college and succeed.  After college, her daughter moved to New Mexico to take a great job.  She would travel to see her daughter 5-6 times a year, and her daughter came home a few times.

I reminded her that she was raised financially on her own as a sole parent, a strong and independent woman. I reminded her that she should be proud of how her difficult few decades of life may have sapped her energy, but she has an independent and successful child. I reminded her that she did this without child support or public assistance.

She is very proud!  What I did not know until this day is that two years ago, her daughter searched for and found her father.  Since that date, her daughter has taken a lot of energy to meet her father and gain a relationship she never had before.  Her father was married and had one stepdaughter.  He was successful and traveled.  He was not worn out like my friend.  Like my friend, he was fun to be with and did not get his life zapped from years of hard work.

Most recently, my friend was planning her normal Easter trip to see her daughter. Her daughter asked her not to come as she was going to Boston to be with her father over the Easter Holiday. She said her daughter sees her less and less, only returns an occasional text message, and answers fewer than half the phone calls. They once spoke at least every three days, and now, it may be a week or more.

She said the last time she visited her daughter, in early February, they were out sightseeing when the deadbeat who ran out on them called. Her daughter excused herself and went on her own way for about 40 minutes to talk with her father. She was mad, and they argued, which only made matters worse.

She started to cry, saying she gave so much energy to raising her daughter, and she was physically and emotionally worn out.  She felt it was unfair for her daughter to brush her aside for something new and fun.  She felt her daughter was selfish and lacked respect and care for all she sacrificed.  I thought she was suicidal at that point and was not sure what to say.

I told her that people are strange and emotions are even more complex.  I reminded her that she no longer has any control and that they are different because people in their 20s want something new and exciting, not old and regular.  I reminded her that kids are no different than other people, often more selfish and less understanding, just as we were at that age.  I suggested she see someone to help sort out what she views as losing a child; only hers is still alive.  That is unlike that of my good friend whose 19-year-old son took his own life on March 31.

I just did not know what else to say, and that is not typical for a strongly opinionated man like me. I am at a loss for words. I did tell her that kids are just free-spirited souls who are now tired like us.  

I told her of how my own son called me about flying to the West Coast to get together for a weekend April 30- May 2) after his birthday.  I told him I would look for options and needed to get away from the 60-hour work weeks.  I told him I was getting worn out!  I found an excellent flight to Portland and tried to text and call for the next two days, but he did not answer.  Then he called when I was heading into a meeting, and we could not talk.  The next day, I got a quick call to say he had other plans.  

I had already arranged the time off and was waiting to purchase the ticket, but something changed. As with her, I felt bad but also knew I had no control. He is much like I was in my 20s: little care for others who could not keep up with my energy, little time for the parents, and very independent. 

However, I do know that we as humans always regret things after someone has passed, but we seem to minimize the opportunity to be with someone when they are right in front of us.  I know a friend whose father committed suicide last year, and he is missed.  But I often wonder how much he was missed before he was gone?

Carry on, my friends, carry on!