Learning How To Live

My biggest fear is death. How am I not supposed to be afraid of it? I’m supposed to go through this life thinking that everything is hunky dory with an abrupt end. But when is that end? Is it now? Or later? And what exactly happens after death? Is it just nothingness or is it a whole new world? Or do we start all over as a baby and go onto a new life?

Whenever I mention that my best friend died a couple months ago, I can sense the tone and the atmosphere of the room instantly changing around me. I can tell that the person that I’m talking to has questions that he or she wants to be answered but doesn’t know how to go about asking them. Sometimes they nod their head and look down. Sometimes they say they’re sorry for my loss and look around until I break the silence. Or sometimes they even ask me questions like how my friend died to keep me talking. But I’ll tell you the story. I’ll tell you who he was and how he died because I know you want to know just like everybody else.

His name was John. He had tan skin, dark brown hair, almost black in a buzz cut. He was short, maybe around 5’5”, which I constantly teased him about. He had the purest golden brown eyes and the brightest smile. He was eighteen and I was seventeen, but I was in the grade above him. I had recently graduated high school and he was left for one more year. We had become best friends in middle school, and we even dated for a month before realizing we were too much like brother and sister to date. I loved him. Not in an I-want-to-marry-him kind of way, but the way that I wanted him in my life forever kind of way. I imagined him being like an uncle to my kids. We fought like siblings, too. We even said that if we both weren’t married by forty-five, we would marry each other. We shook on it and everything.

On May 3, 2016, my best friend John went to go on a one-hundred-mile bike trip. It was on his bucket list and he was planning for the next triathlon we were going to do together. On the 5th, he got to the ninety-five mark when he and his friend stopped at a corner to stop for a drink when a driver cut the curb quickly and ran into him. I remember him telling me that morning that he had 10 more miles and he would be home for our movie night. We had movie night every Monday night where we would eat pizza and watch a scary movie. That night I got a call from his sister telling me the words that I wished I never heard her say.

“Elaiza, come to the St. Charles Hospital now.”

I remember getting that phone call when I was at home preparing for movie night by ordering the pizza and making popcorn. I remember running out of the house and speeding to the hospital. And when I got there and found where he was, they wouldn’t let me in the room. The doctors had the visitation open to family only because John was in such a critical state. John’s sister, Lily came out to the waiting room to tell me what was happening every ten minutes just so I would know how he was. He had swelling in his brain and bleeding as well. He dislocated his elbow and had a punctured lung. He was intubated and in the ICU.

I was in that damn hospital every day, and I begged the doctors to let me see my best friend. But every day, I’d get the same shake of the head and flick of the wrist pointing me back to the waiting room. I remember sitting in the same stupid seat in the waiting room cursing them under my breath. I just wanted to see my best friend and they had to cut me off from him. And then Friday rolled around. The doctors finally let me stand outside the door, but they still wouldn’t let me inside. I remember a loud clang and screaming from inside the room and then seeing the doctors rush John out on a stretcher and more screaming. I remember some of the screams coming from my mouth. Then the doctors walked me back to the waiting room and the rest of John’s family went to a separate room. Lily came out to the waiting room to tell me that John wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t beat it. The bleeding was overpowering him and the pain was too much. I broke down in the waiting room and the saddest part was that the fucking doctors wouldn’t let me say goodbye.

The months that followed John’s death were full of raw grief. I remember that period of time quite well. The visitation and the funeral and the speeches given at our swim memorial for him. Trying not to cry at swim practice so I could make it to the bathroom or to my car. Day after day. But sometimes, those tears mixed with the chlorine as I missed him every day. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. It was the hardest time I’ve ever been through. And of course, as time goes on, life moves on. But you never forget. You’ll never bee the same. There are things in life that are so traumatic that you just can’t go through them without changing. And I’ve learned many lessons with the loss of my best friend.

1. Grief is a crushing emotion.

“John get your ass back here!” I screamed as I chased after him. He ran around the island in the kitchen, holding my phone, and I crossed my arms.

“You can’t use those puppy dog eyes on me,” He shook his head and scrolled through my phone. I knew they wouldn’t work but it was worth a try. But the one thing, John couldn’t resist was a bag of Salt and Vinegar Lays chips. I opened up the pantry door and I found a bag and turned around and shook it in front of him and he groaned.

“Come on, you can’t do me like that Lolo,” He reached for the chips. I shook my head and held the chips back.

“Phone first, then chips,” I say and he gladly handed my phone over.

“I’ll get you back for this,” John said and laughed before we head back to the couch to finish up our movie night.

When I lost John, it was the first time that I felt this pain that was so harsh. I guess that makes me lucky that it took me seventeen years to feel such pain. And to be honest, I was amazed at how long this period of sorrow lasted. There were the periods of sadness and the uncontrollable tears. Then there was the irritability and the lack of tears. Sometimes I needed to be with people and sometimes I needed to be alone. Sometimes I needed courage from others to help me keep going and sometimes I needed to push everyone away. But, no matter the pain, I couldn’t forget the happy moments I had with him.

2. When someone mentions their pain, they want to talk about it.

I was sitting in John’s room on the floor because he was adamant that I wasn’t allowed to sit on his bed.

“I don’t understand why I just can’t sit on your bed?” I whine.

“Because … you know Maggie. She’s gonna go crazy if she smells perfume on my bed. Not just anybody’s perfume, yours. The other day at Macy’s she asked me what perfume you used, just so she could smell it in the store to know what you smell like. Do you know how crazy that is?!” John said annoyed.

“I don’t know why you’re still with her. She’s psycho,” I say and John sighs.

“Sorry. I know how much you like her.” I say seeing how upset he was.

“You’re right, though. She’s a pain in the ass. I mean, you’re my best friend and I love you and all, but Maggie hates you. I don’t want to date someone who hates you,” He gets off the bed and sits next to me.

“I mean, she’s great and all, but if she keeps getting jealous and overprotective every time you’re over, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t like the fact that she’s so controlling over you,” I say and get up.

“Where are you going?” He asks and I shrug.

“I don’t know. You know I don’t like talking about her,” I say and leave.

Most times when people don’t know what to say when they’re talking to someone who is dealing with pain, it’s because they don’t want to hurt our feelings. But in grieving myself, I realized a secret. One that might not help everyone, but it sure as hell helped me. When I mentioned my best friend’s death I felt like I just wanted to talk about it with others and if I didn’t want to talk about him, I didn’t mention him at all or changed the subject if they brought it up. I won’t ever forget the time I walked away from John when he was trying to open up to me. I should have sat there and listened to him complain about Maggie. I should have sat there and let him talk to me because it might have helped him. So if someone in pain brings up their grief, talk with them about it because they're probably just looking for some support. Because they could easily refrain from bringing it up, but they didn’t. Don’t be scared to embark on that journey with them.

3. Everything will pass.

“Come on, let’s go out tonight,” John whined into the phone.

“I just want to sit here and not think about anything,” I complain as I lay in my bed with tissues strewn across the room.

“No. I’m coming over. We’re going out,” John says and I hear him start his car in the background.

“John, the fuck are you doing?” I ask him and I hear him laugh.

“Get your ass dressed, we’re going to that abandoned building in Lindbergh,” He says.

“You know I’m not in a good mood,” I say and get up to change.

“You’re not going to get over any shitty ex by just laying there. Come on, I’ll be there in two. You know you love exploring abandoned places, we always do it together,” He says and I hang up the phone.

Also, you can’t forget that everything will pass and life will go on. Whether we spend our 24 hours in bed crying about the past or whether we spend it by going out and being productive, the next set of twenty-four hours comes around and the sun rises and sets. Life goes on. This doesn’t mean we have to forget about the past, but it does mean that we have much more than the past. We have the future.

4. Life is precious.

My parents were currently going through a divorce and my mom flew to New Jersey to spend time with my aunt for Thanksgiving. I was never really close to my aunt so my mom agreed to let me stay home for the holidays. When my mom left, I went over to John’s house, who I would be spending the next week with.

“Honey I’m home!” I laughed and called out and I heard running from upstairs and a loud thud as John slipped and slid down the stairs.

“Owwwww,” I heard him scream from the stairs and I walked over and saw him holding his butt in pain.

“What happened?” I ask in a fit of laughter.

“I got so excited to see you that I ran and missed a step” He groaned.

I helped him up still laughing at him and I got him an ice pack from the freezer.

“You’re weak, you know?” I laugh.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just happy you’re here,” He snatched the ice pack from me and sat on the couch. I heard his mom coming down from the stairs.

“John, what the hell was that noise?” She asked and peeked her head around the stairway and saw me.

“Oh hello, honey! I didn’t know you were here yet!” She smiled and walked down the stairs.

“Hi, Mrs. Brandt” I smiled back. She was my favorite in the Brandt family. After John, of course.

“We have some food in the fridge and the pantry but of course you know where that is. If you need anything, you can just holler at me. I’ll make you whatever you want,” She hugged me and said.

“Why do you always cook for her, but whenever I want food, you tell me to walk myself to the pantry?” John asked.

“Because I like her more than you,” she said.

I remember after losing John, that I held my friends and family closer than before. I made sure to show how much I cared about them. I put my work and extracurricular activities down if they wanted to talk. I picked up the phone if they called instead of letting it ring out. I developed an understanding of each person that I talked to, whether it was a stranger or even my mother. Each person you talk to is a loved one of someone else. I want to be able to treat everyone I meet with respect because you never know what they might be going through and if they are grieving.

5. We are not in full control of our lives.

John and I signed up for a triathlon. I really didn’t want to do one this month. We usually do triathlon’s every month but I just got over the flu and hadn’t been training. John was so excited to beat his previous time of 1:13:37. I had a 1:14 flat, but that was with training for two months in advance.

When it came to the time of the triathlon, I tried to put on a smile for John. I knew that he knew how I felt, but I wanted to make him happy. We went through the first two sections easily: the swim section and the bike section. But, when it came to the running, I had to stop at the side to breathe. Someone ran to get me water and I felt a hand on my back. John.

“Keep going. Come on, you were going to beat your time!” I say trying to encourage him to run on.

“It’s not the same without you,” He rubbed my back and he handed me a cup of water.

“Oh shut up, John. Keep going. Don’t give up” I said but he shook his head again.

“No. I knew we shouldn’t have done it this month. I was selfish. Come on, let’s go get bagels,” He said and grabbed my hand and walked through the gate.

We have hopes and dreams and even goals. All of those are amazing things and planning our lives out is wise, but no matter how hard we work at that, there are just some things that we can’t control. When John died, I realized that there were things that were impossible to change. Before he passed, I felt like there was always a way for something. If I wanted to buy some shoes, all I had to do was mow Mr. Vandeven’s lawn and he’d give me a crisp fifty dollar bill. If I got into an argument with my mom, I had to make an effort to communicate with her. But when John died, I realized that no matter what I did, I couldn’t bring him back. I felt so helpless and vulnerable. And to me, that was important.

6. Old memories are to be held onto.

John was the artist of the Brandt family. He always was doodling and honestly, I was jealous of his creativity. I asked him to teach me how to draw and he asked me what I wanted to draw.

“What’s important to you?”

“Us,” I smile at him and he nods.

“Alright, let’s start with the faces.” He points to the paper and he helps me draw our faces. We move onto our bodies and he looks at me and thinks for a moment.

“What is it?” I ask him and he points to his chest on the drawing.

“Draw a little cartoon heart there. And draw one on you, too,” He said.

“Now shade in the heart at the bottom, right there,” He pointed to the bottom of the heart and helped me shade it.

“Perfect.” He said and fell back on his bed.

“It’s yours,” I say and handed it to him and he hung it by his mirror.

The day after I moved into my dorm, I got an email saying that I had a letter from Rutgers Postal Service. So, I walked to the post office and got my letter. It was from Lily, John’s sister. I remember walking back to the dorm room thinking of what it would have been about. I sat on my bed and took a deep breath before opening the letter and I saw a note in there from Lily.

Found this in John’s dresser drawer. I thought you might want to read this.

I put that paper to the side and started reading the four-page handwritten letter he had written to me. I remember crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. But I’ll read you the letter. Just like I knew you wanted to know how he died, I bet you’re begging to know what was on that poorly scribed letter.

Dear Lolo,

Happy graduation! Happy birthday! Happy moving day! I wanted to write three individual letters but I figured, I’d write one big letter. I miss you already (Seriously ... you’re my only friend pls come back because I don’t know what to do w/o you here). I’m beyond proud of you for going off to college and it’s so brave of you to be moving to a completely new place. The move is going to do nothing on this friendship. I mean come on, we’re undeniably #friendshipgoals and I know I can call you whenever with all of my problems and you’ll answer. I love you, Lolo. I really do. You’re the only one I can turn to when I can’t turn to Lily about my problems. You’re the one I wake up and text good morning because relationships are stupid and I’d rather talk to you for hours then talk to some girl about makeup and shoes. And don’t forget, if we’re not married by forty-five, we’re still going to marry each other. Don’t think I forgot about that deal because I didn’t.

I’m going to miss being able to go over to your house and scavenging through your pantry for food because my mom doesn’t feed me. I’m going to miss racing you at swim practice every day. I’m going to miss your stupid grin every time I get roasted by my family or every time you make fun of me for my height. I’m going to miss you, Lolo. You’re my best friend and I never want to lose you. You’re the best thing that happened to me on August 22nd, 2011. You were so ugly then, hahahahahaha. Don’t kill me for that, Lolo. If it makes it any better, you had a major glow up! I know if I said that to you out loud I’d hear you roll your eyes and talk to me with that whiney voice and you’d say, “Johnnnnn, get outttt.” You know exactly what voice I’m talking about, too.

Anyways, there’s so much I want to say, but I want to keep it semi-short or I’ll bore you to death. I want to tell you the things I regret doing. I regret arguing with you about Maggie. I regret putting her before you. I regret bailing on our movie night so that I could go on a last-minute trip to Sephora with her to make her happy. I regret breaking up with you. I know I had the excuse of we’re too much like brother and sister, but I actually loved you. I remember before you and I dated, you would go out with guys from our grade and I would always get jealous when you texted me telling me how your date went. I know I tried to be happy and support you, but honestly, I just wished it was me the whole time. And when I got my own chance with you, I was so scared that I was going to fuck everything up, so I let you go. And that’s one of my biggest regrets.

But I love you. I still do. I love you more than anything. And you’re my best friend. I hope when you go off to Rutgers, you’ll find a best friend who will treat you the way I treat you. I hope you can find someone who will spend every Friday with you for scary movie night. I hope your new best friend can love you like I do. I hope your new best friend can talk to you for hours on end about vines or memes. I love you, Lolo.

With love,

John :)

I was so thankful that Lily sent it to me. I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye and this letter gave me a bit of closure. The last time I talked to him was the morning of the accident when he told me he was still on for movie night. I’d see him soon. At least that’s what I thought. This letter was like the goodbye I didn’t get.

7. Friendship is forever.

“Hello, Mrs. Brandt, it’s Lolo,” I say into the phone and I hear a laugh from the other end.

“Hi, honey. I miss you, you know,” she says. That’s how all of our phone calls went.

When John died, I didn’t lose my friend, I just had to say goodbye to him. I had to change my state of mind and alter my thinking about missing him forever. Just because we weren’t talking on a daily basis, doesn’t mean that our friendship is over. I still love him. I still talk to him like I see him every day. I care for his family and keep in touch with them. Every time I don’t know what to do, I think about him and wonder what he would do. When I think about him, the conversations we had when he was here and the secrets we shared, it makes me inspired and excited to push forward to make him proud.

8. It’s important to think about life and death.

“Lolo, what would you do if I died?” John asked while we were laying in his bed during one of our monthly sleepovers.

“I don’t know, why?” I shrugged, not trying to think about it too much.

“If you died, I don’t know what I would do. It would be so hard, you know?” He asked and turned to me.

“Yeah. I mean I’d cry and all and be sad. But like, what would you want me to do?” I asked him.

“I’d want you to be happy. I don’t want you to dwell on it. I want you to find a new best friend and be happy,” He said and I grinned.

The last thing I learned was to push my fear behind me. Yes, I’m still scared to death. But our days are numbered here. It can be scary to let your mind wander to death and nobody enjoys thinking about when we’re going to die, but it’s important to think about. Because, when we think about death, we also think about life and it helps us decide how to live. It makes us think about what comes after death and what kind of legacy we want to leave behind. John’s death did a number on me. It caused pain. But, it also caused me to fill my heart with wisdom. I’ve learned so much from this experience and for that, I am forever grateful.

And this is for John: somewhere I know you’re reading this, whether it’s from me writing this paper, or you’ve somehow managed to get your hands on a copy of it. Either way, I wish I could have hugged you one more time. I wish you could’ve heard me tell you I love you just one more time. We’ve shared some great memories together, at least. I don’t know who’s going to walk to my house and ring the doorbell just to ask me if I can trip up their hair or who’s going to FaceTime me in the morning to ask if they look okay. I don’t know who’s going to come over to my house with different outfits because you don’t know what shirt goes with those jeans you love to wear. I don’t know who’s going to run home from school just to beat me while I’m fighting traffic and surprise me in my kitchen, sitting at the table with five sandwiches and two bags of chips and then ask me if I could grab you more food. I cherish every moment I got to spend with you, John. It's going to be a rough road without you buddy but I know that you're happier now. I love you more than you will EVER know. You're my best friend, even still. Sometimes I still can't imagine living life without you, but May 10, 2016, was the day that I had to learn how.