My feels have taken control and I need to get it all out before it eats me alive. As much as I dislike facing my sadness and grief, I’ve come to realize that I have to accept it, give it space to exist, and to hope that I’m strong enough to process all these intense feels. I might have to process in more bite sized pieces, but I can work through it at least. Bit by bit. This is today’s bit to get me through the loss of you, dear Matthew.
We knew when you received your diagnosis of pancreatic cancer there was a countdown to how long we could keep you. There was a limit. That’s how pancreatic cancer works. We knew this going in. Yet 12 years was still somehow insufficient.
You were so fucking strong for so fucking long. You joked with me about my own health issues. Even while battling for your own life, you were kind to me and trying to distract me. We laughed that I have had enough surgeries that I look like I’ve lost a knife fight, but you looked like you lost a sword fight with your scars.
When I lost my sister to alcoholism, you were one of the first and few to reach out and check on me. It was hard for others, but given your experiences you jumped right in. You said such kind things about her when I was so bitter and soooo fucking angry. We’ve always had a somewhat awkward connection, and I’m struggling with knowing you won’t be there to help me through my dumbass shit ever again.
I think it was Nicole who brought you into our lives. When I lived in felony flats (yes I lived in a part of town known as felony flats), she showed up one night with this new guy who had really pretty blue eyes. I think that’s my first memory of you.
Then one night while strolling The Gut (if ya know, ya know), I encountered the blue-eyed fella again. You made a fairly lewd comment, but to be fair I didn’t yet know you or your style of humor. My response was to introduce you to “my brothers” at the time. I thought it was Sebastian that kept you in line, but you later confessed that it was Don (a.k.a. Ogre) that worried you. You later commented that you assumed I was talking about Don when I said “my brother” and you were sure Don was going to kill you that night. From then on we had this almost weird sibbly thing going on. At least that’s how it was for me. I can’t speak for you. I probably annoyed the fuck out of you. I have that effect on people. You usually gave me shit, but not in a cruel bully kind of way. It was always like a brother or cousin. You know what I mean – where they give you shit and it’s hilarious but if an outsider disrupts things, then shit gets real. I never had an older brother, and you were probably the closest thing.
When I was 16 and got knocked up by a 24-year old dude who constantly made my hormonal ass cry, you quietly and secretly comforted me. You took me aside for a walk and talk. As my fat, pregnant ass bawled over everything, you told me that it was Todd’s loss. He didn’t deserve my tears. He didn’t deserve my kindness, and he sure as shit didn’t deserve for me to have his child. This was the very first time you had been kind to me in an absolutely serious way. Before that, it was all humor and fun. You told me that I was a good person, that I had a kind heart, and that I shouldn’t waste my time, energy, or tears on a piece of shit who gave me nothing other than the baby I carried. You said I’d be a good mom. You said I didn’t need Todd. You said everything I needed to hear. I didn’t share that experience with others. You had a reputation to uphold as the dude that gave me shit, I wouldn’t take that away from you. Plus so many people thought I was screwing everyone and their brother (I was NOT, by the way) and I didn’t want you added to the list of alleged conquests. It was better to be quite about you being nice to me.
One of the most impactful and important things you did – you were one of the very few people to tell me right away that I was good for Ken. Other people weren’t so sure. They came from a place of kindness – Ken had kids with someone else, and they wanted the best for those kids. Many people told us our happiness and desires were selfish, but you supported us from the beginning. I don’t know why. I don’t know that it matters. For me, you were kind and I trusted your assessment. For all I know, you helped Ken figure things out. For me, you were a saint and a savior. You gave me hope. For someone who has such devastatingly low self-esteem, that hope helped me hang on more than I can adequately explain.
It’s no secret that I’ve had mental health struggles. While I’ve been in remission for about 8 years now, I nearly never even made it to remission. You helped me, Matt. It’s possible nobody else knows about it. While I contemplated the value of my very existence, you tried to help me see. Even with your own health struggles and facing your own mortality, you helped me. It was never obvious to others. In fact, it might be considered covert. But I guess the truth of the matter is that it didn’t need to be seen by others, as long as it was seen by me and kept me alive.
You were one of the first and one of the few outside of immediate family who checked in on me after my sister died. You said such kind things about her. You remembered so much more than I could have imagined – all the positive pieces. You knew the bullshit and pain, but you didn’t focus on that. You reminded me of the good times and kept me from wandering to the darkness and bitterness.
You were a smart ass with a dirty mind. But you were also a kind soul who helped others on the DL. It seemed like your preference was for the rest of the world to think you were kind of a dick, and you definitely could be, but I don’t believe that was your default. I think you were quietly kind, considerate, and truly loved your friends and family.
You were so bright and intelligent. You had amazing artistic ability that few were witness to. You loved your kids and granddaughter with all that you were. Oh how you loved your granddaughter…
I’m sorry the plague robbed us of memories and time together. I’m sorry your family feels such a deeply wounding loss. You are loved so much more than you could ever imagine, dear Matthew. You will be missed more than words can express. May I find you again in my next life where we can have more time, more fun, more adventure, and where you can be with us to share in our joys and happiness.
We love you, Matt. We love you more than you can know and more than we can ever adequately express. We know your pain and suffering has come to an end. For that we are grateful. You endured so much and you deserve the rest. We will keep you with us whenever and however we can. The rest of this life will be so weird without you. So empty without you. I’m sure there will be lots of tears and random ugly crying.
We will love you for the rest of our days, sweet Matt. Until next time, our dear friend… Keep a drink chilled and we’ll have a wonderful reunification in our afterlife.
Oh – one more thing – FUCK CANCER!
Why is Life Like That, Why am I Like That? 