and Words
Live another day
Climb a little higher
Find another reason to stay
Ashes in your hands
Mercy in your eyes
If you’re searching for a silent sky
You won’t find it here
Look another way
You won’t find it here
So die another day
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
I was in my mid to late twenties when I was first approached by a friend with an idea. She had a dear friend who was young and was going through some struggles. He was twelve and lived with his mom. She asked if I would consider being his big brother, though it wouldn’t be in an official (sponsored program) capacity.
Honestly, it didn’t really occur to me how much she was entrusting in me, nor did I really think about what I was getting myself into. I mostly remembered what it was like being a boy that age without a man with whom I might ask questions. In that sense, my decision was easy. That’s how I came to meet Lucas.
I can’t say that I remember precisely how or even where I met Lucas. I do remember spending much time with him doing nothing in particular. It was never really about what we did; it was simply about spending the time together. It’s not as if being a ‘Big Brother’ came with an instruction manual; at least I never got one.
We spent many weekend days together over many years. He often suggested we play Horse at the basketball hoop at his house. We played Spaceward Ho!, in many ways my favorite video game. We played duels of Magic The Gathering. I inexplicably won a disproportionate number of whatever competitions we engaged in; still we enjoyed our time together. We attended a few Star Trek conventions together, since we both enjoyed the television show.
Sometimes we’d just watch a movie. Others we’d chat while he did his homework. Once I picked him up as he left Saturday detention. As we drove away, I asked him how he landed in detention. His response? He was mouthing off during class. I responded with, “I hated having classmates like you in high school while I was trying to learn something”. I’m not sure that was what he was expecting. Did I need to be that blunt?
We skated a number of times; he with inline skates and I with conventional skates. There was even the one incident when I fractured my fibula when inline skating with him. Merely thinking that it was simply twisted or sprained, I fueled up and drove home for an hour. It was only when my friend Len watched me hobbling around that evening when he suggested that it’s more than a simple sprain. He took me to the hospital, where they X-Rayed my foot and encased it in a cast.
It was during one of these afternoons when we rode in my 1969 Camaro, though I don’t remember where we were headed. We listened to music while we chatted, and this particular song came on… Another Day by Dream Theater. I stopped our conversation and asked him, “What do you think this song is about?” I restarted the song so that we might both listen to it.
Once we finally spoke, we agreed. It’s about suicide. Or specifically, it’s about not committing suicide even when you contemplate it. The song is a poetic, impassioned plea to talk someone out it. This song spoke to me because I had contemplated suicide when I was a teenager, though I’m not sure I mentioned that to Lucas. Maybe it was my way of telling him that he can talk to me no matter how bad life got.
I never imagined how prophetic this conversation would become.
I told him once that at some point, I’d ask him for a favor… one where I, quite bluntly, wouldn’t accept ‘no’ for an answer. He looked at me quizzically but simply agreed. I never did tell him the nature of that favor. When it’d be appropriate, and he had his life more settled, I’d ask him to pay it forward. There’d be another young man who, like he, has come upon some difficult times. He should be his ‘Big Brother’ and become that stabilizing force upon their life.
I was at a place in my life where I was still struggling to figure some things out when I first met him. To see myself through his eyes was both humbling and frightening. He inspired me to be a better person. I can’t adequately express the countless ways in which he enriched my life.
As the years passed, there’d be many milestones. I attended his confirmation, a milestone in which I didn’t participate in my own life, even having grown up Catholic. There were graduations, both high school and college.
There was an incident during college when he and his friends were walking home; this was not unlike millions of college students on any weekend night. On this fateful night, another group attacked them on that walk. They stabbed him in the chest before they escaped. It was by sheer stroke of luck that they were so close to the hospital and that they responded so quickly. Lucas survived the surgery and endured months of recovery. I visited him at home during the recovery. He showed off his scar and had a two-pound bag of flour to remind him how much he was allowed to lift.
One day he calls out of the blue. He had just asked his girlfriend to marry, and she accepted. He was floating; I could hear it on his voice. I couldn’t help but to smile as well as he gave me all the details… and then there was his wedding. It was in Orlando, Florida and it took place close to the end of the year. I was visiting family on vacation and happily drove a few hours to attend it. Both the ceremony and the reception were beautiful; it was a fairy tale wedding. That night I remember thinking to myself that troubled boy I met so many years before had finally managed to work through it all.
It was evening and I was across town at my then girlfriend’s apartment. My friend, who introduced me to Lucas so many years before, unexpectedly called me. I smiled as I contemplated the possibility of catching up with her and answered the phone. As I stood in that balcony, I don’t remember precisely the words she spoke nor the manner in which she voiced them. I just remember their significance.
Lucas was dead; he died by suicide.
Nothing prepares you for these words. Nothing. In that moment I was overwhelmed with sadness, despair, and anger. Why didn’t he just call me? What was so catastrophic that led him to this decision? This news flooded my mind with dozens of questions. Some were answered by her sad voice on the line, but really there are no answers. There is no answer that explains this to any degree of closure. He took those answers with him.
Days later I attended his funeral. During his services we were instructed to go home that night and jot down a series of memories starting with “I remember when...” I still have that three-page document with dozens of these memories; I opened it and read it as I composed this post. It turns out that my memory is not infallible as people allege; there were too many details which I had forgotten.
I carry the guilt of how I failed him. As he grew older, I reasoned that he was now able to manage his life. We rarely saw each other. Our conversations became less frequent. He had this, or so I thought. I let him go in the way that you might hand those car keys to a teenage driver for the first time, to indicate that you trust them. Damn it… Why didn’t he just call me?
If you are struggling and should happen upon this post, please seek help. Similarly, if this endangers someone you love, please seek help. I reflect with deep sadness upon all the empty seats at dinner tables… of all of the “I can’t wait to tell so-and-so about…” until you realize they’re gone. Let’s remove the stigma. There are many labels that we can put on suicide; the one label that should get the most attention is ‘preventable’.
It’s easy to reflect upon that loss and rationalize that we can’t turn back the hands of time to prevent it; we let it go. For each person like Lucas, there’s someone else who struggles and needs help. #BeThere for them. Let’s inspire them to live Another Day.