Past tenses and tensions

I woke up this morning with a headache as my wife predicted.

It isn't the skullsplitter variety - a description that never fails to make Becky wince - it's just a simple tension headache caused by a shot of Jagermeister. "It's just one drink," I told her. And, of course, she was right. One was enough.

and in this episode of "This Old Anarchist"
I think I am begining to understand why the "obey" thing is worked into the common wedding vows. It wasn't in our vows, but that's beside the point. It doesn't have to mean some sort of sick, psuedo-parental thing where spouses act out their respective neurosis (what's the plural here?) on one another - it can just mean, "Listen and try to respect what your spouse has to say before having the kneejerk response to fight them on stuff. They may have a damn good reason to say whetever they're saying."

So wow, how 'bout that.

The Big Chill
Our friend, Chad Canipe, died on Friday, March 9. He left behind two sons - ages seven and three (Colin and Aidan - I think Aidan is three) and a wife, Rene. There's a memorial site being developed at http://www.CanipeMemorial.com. I'm sure they'll be accepting donations for the family at the site and I can attest, if they do, it's for a good cause: to support the grieving family of a kind and very decent man.

I still am having a difficult time accepting that he's gone and, paradoxically, am finding my memories of Chad to be fleeting. I can recall events and conversations, which I'll relate later in this letter, but not his voice or face all that clearly. Just a tinge of his soft, slightly raspy way of speaking is left and just a smile or so remains in my memory. I can't recall how he frowned (perhaps this speaks well of him) or what his serious look looked like.

There was a radio show I heard once that described the reactions to death in other cultures and they spoke of a particular (African?) culture that viewed it - death - as being of two types: The recent dead, who still live in the minds of those who knew them and the long dead who are recalled only in stories or not at all.

My friend Quintina, like Chad, is among the recent dead. Quin died in - wasn't it January? - That's already begun to slip - and she, like Chad, was only about 35. It was sudden and it was a shock. My friend, Adam, who, along with his wife, Laura, played a large part in our wedding, his favorite movie was The Big Chill, which is about a group of friends who reuinite after many years at the death of one in their clique. I don't think Quin's death acted on my loose group of high school friends as it happened in the film, but then, in some ways it did. It was a geologic occurrence, shaking us to our core and forcing us to confront our own mortality.

Quin, by the way, laughed so hard at one of my stories that she threw up. John Waters said once that to him, if he could make an audience member vomit, it was like a standing ovation. Thanks, so much, Quin. I've never been paid a better compliment when telling my stories of urban decay.

Chad's death may be the first death in Vineyard Central - could that be? Maybe. That seems harder than the second will be. Kevin Rains, my friend and pastor will be doing the memorial service.

the year of magical thinking
When time has passed and those close to Chad can sit down to read it, I hope they, especially Rene, check out Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. This is a memoir by Didion - a journalist/author - on the first year of her life without her husband. Didion is an athiest, though the book is really about how we grieve. There is an engaging abstract of what one will find - a 25 minute interview by Terry Gross. Quoting the Fresh Air site, "In her memoir, Didion contemplates how the rituals of daily life are fundamentally altered when her life's companion is taken from her. Her impressions, both sharply observed and utterly reasonable, form a picture of an intelligent woman grappling with her past and future."

Memories of Chad
Chad and I were not close, but I have always known him to be a gentleman, a devoted husband and father and a loving friend. Here are just a few notes that will act as a simple buttressing of wonderful stories that will no doubt be told about Chad.

His kindness: He went out of his way to hook me up with a job at 5/3 which I decided, ultimately, not to interview for. He looked for ways he could extend a little grace into others lives.

His love of his family was alway clear to me. The way he cared for his family was always clear in his soft spoken, gentle and soothing manner towards them.

His faith: Clearly stronger than my own, he was convicted on the love and authority of God.

His damned free weights: Were a pain in the ass to move downstairs to his basement. But, they reinforced my understanding of his sense of humor. The man could take a joke and always had a laugh ready for my sarcasm.

You'll be missed, Chad.

Steve

PS: My headache is gone now. And Chad's blog keeps going, as his spokesperson and testimony of what his life was about. Once you get past his unnatural obsession with the Steelers ( ;) ), you'll find a very deep soul imprinted its mark on those pages.