It continues to be a heart breaking task, a mystery; the juxtaposition of love and sorrow. We can be skipping along enjoying the fruits of a meaningful, content life when death comes into the room and suddenly peace is replaced with chaos. My oldest son, Tim, lost one of his best friends to leukemia early Thursday morning. Scott was only 30. Scott was one of the good guys!
My daughter and I were away enjoying a brief holiday in breathtakingly beautiful Cannon Beach when Tim called us with the news that Scott had passed away. As quickly as the weather changes in that coastal town, our hearts shifted from delight to sorrow. Sorrow for the passing of a boy far too young to have died. Sorrow for his parents, his brothers, his sisters in law, and their children who have lost an amazing uncle. Sorrow for his girl friend, Jacquie. Sorrow for my boy.
I've spoken to Tim several times since Thursday listening to him process the finality of death. Tim and Scott became friends in the early 90's. Scott was a crazy and fun kid! He was the youngster you wanted your child to have as a friend. Scott was always respectful. He was one of the few friends of my children I let call me Carol rather than the more formal, Mrs. Osborne.
As Tim and I were reminiscing, I mentioned how Scott always hung on our pantry door. Tim reminded me that no, that was Galen. I mentioned the time Scott took too many Ritalin pills and Tim was all worried and wanted to know how many could kill you and I was reminded...no that wasn't Scott, that was Galen. Maybe I should have been more worried about Galen. How about the dares? These crazy boys would dare each other to do stuff. Dare you to take Imodium and Senekot! Dare you to go to that house, knock on the door and ask for a cookie tin. Seems to me I ended up getting a cookie tin etched with a piano after that dare.
The boys got older. Scott was in Tim's wedding party. The tall groomsman with the big heart.
It is an honour, albeit a heavy one, to support my son in his grief. To hear his heart break, the anguish in his voice, his desire to not have this be about him, but to be supportive of Scott's family brings a mixture of sorrow and pride. As I speak with Tim the waves of despair come interspersed with a good story, a remember when...
With love comes goodness, but also sorrow. Oh that we could shield our children from the pain. But it is the juxtaposition of the two that make us human. To let go, to let my son grieve, is heart wrenching, but it is a process that will make him more complete. When we love, truly love, we risk heart break.
Scott leaves many to grieve his death. His life had a large impact. He lived life in a big way and he will be remembered in a big way.
Rest in Peace, Scott.