Ode to Vincent David Wellington and 2007-2008

As long as we had been friends, "brothers", bound by years of shared experiences, is as quickly as my memories of him will fade. My room became his when I went away to college, and even when I returned I never really got it back. I was fine with that, that room was only big enough for a midget and a half and the heat is probably what kept me thin all these years, despite the midnight ice cream runs thanks to Vince's suddent urges.

When i was first delivered the tragic news, I went through the "stages" fairly quickly:
1. Denial:
* Example - "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me!,"
2. Anger:
* Example - "Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me!"; "Who is to blame?"
3. Bargaining:
* Example - "Just let me live to see my children graduate."; "I'll do anything for a few more years."; "I will give my life savings if..."
4. Depression:
* Example - "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die . . . What's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"
5. Acceptance:
* Example - "It's going to be okay."; "I can handle it with change"; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."

Denial took about 5 seconds...
Anger took about 5 minutes...
Bargaining... I think I skipped this step!
Depression... Came and went every couple of months but for these brief 30 minute periods
Acceptance... Set in before I made it to my front door...

My father came to pick me up from work, which had never happened before. My dad rarely drives into the city unless he feels he has to. He called to tell me my car was parked in front of Mr. Al's garage. I'm thinking he moved my car because I had a problem remembering alternate side of the street parking some days (I can't say I miss it one bit, score 1 for the Capital Region). My thinking was, Mr. Al passed away months before so what was the big deal if my car was in front of the garage? "No offence" as my wife would say, but I didn't think anyone would be taking a car out of that garage in the next 8 or 9 hours, I'm not moving Rufus (My car's name at the time due to the bad catalytic converter which made it have a very raspy voice, if you will). We drove through Manhattan over the 59th street bridge (midtown bridge, Queensbridge) and into Long Island City. 10 minutes goes by and he made some casual conversation, no more than usual. We had made it all the way to the beginning of 32nd Avenue, which is around 51st street. At 74th he gives me the news giving me roughly 5 minutes to get it together before I get home at 106th street. He gives me the lecture on what I'm going to go through but I'm not really listening as he talks about the "stages". I punched the dashboard in hopes that the airbag wouldn't punch me back in the face, curled up in a ball, and began to slowly lose air. He told me my mom already knew as well as my siblings. I dried my face up and got ready to step into the house. My youngest sister (16 at the time), hugged me first and then my mom. They couldn't help crying. My brother (15) was upstairs as he usually is, clinging the controller as if hitting the buttons any harder would help him through the video game. It was one of the only times I remember my little brother feeling the need to hug me. At that point I felt it was my fault. Not for Vincent's death, but for bringing him into their lives. I am a "What If" type of thinker and I knew I was the catalyst. I had to quickly get over this thought as I knew I would have to be the one to break the news to other friends as well. I don't remember how many phone calls I made but, I remember one person telling me, "haha you're kidding" and hanging up on me. She had known me since 1st grade so it was understandable. Others immediately cried and some it took time for the actual thought process to set itself in their heads.

I thought back on October, 2007. I felt like I held back saying a lot because I was trying to perhaps make everyone happy. I'm a former "people pleaser", with a tendency to say what someone else wants, instead of what I want. I am also a really bad public speaker, but I always end up volunteering myself for those sort of things once in a blue moon to perhaps overcome some kind of fear. Of course this day, I not only felt it was appropriate that I be the one to speak at the event, but if only two people were going to get to speak at the service, I was going to be one of those two. I was told before hand since someone couldn't speak, it would mean the world if I spoke, not to mention I had to relay the message from our childhood couterpart Mr. Delmore seeing as he couldn't make it (not his fault). I tried to write a nice message, but only had a day or two before the service. By the time the words on the paper made it to the stage, I don't remember what happened or what was said. It was a total outer body experience. I couldn't bear to get on stage and be some kind of comedian, everyone was wondering what the "serious side" of Ronald looked like. All the crying faces in the front row seemed to dry up a bit when they saw me take the stage. Not many of them saw me walk in and I guess I was a sight for sore eyes. I sat near what was his most recent girlfriend, at least that I knew of, while the ones before her sat a couple of rows ahead. None of these relationships ended on bad terms, well at least not to my knowledge. Some lasted days, months, and only one, years... I read the message from Mr. Delmore in it's Harvard'esque nature. Quotes of inspiration, love and admiration and even a memory or two. I then proceeded to read what I wrote for perhaps 2 lines and then ad-libbed the rest. This was to make the parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and distant friends happy. This speech was written for them. The encore presentation to take place, was for the close friends as I was to soon find out.

I sometimes feel like the only reason people had began to cling to me that day and for almost a year later (and some 'til this day) is because perhaps they weren't as close to him as I was. I was the last thing some people had to hold on to, that would keep the thought of him alive, until they were ready to let go. 95% of us dropped what we were doing to get together and just reminisce while others just got back into the daily grind. To make a long story short, I got to know some interesting people. There were some people I had not seen in 10 or more years, and others who I didn't want to see for another 10 years. I will admit I was quite annoyed when people asked me if he said anything about them or told me why he stopped talking to or calling certain people. I lied and said he didn't even if he did. He can take those to the grave, no use in senselessly hurting people's feelings. Sometimes I wonder, if all those girls knew I was around for 99% of the instant messaging conversations they had with him, would they even talk to me? If they knew that I was aware of EVERYTHING that went on in their relationship/friendship with him, would they approach me differently? One can only wonder...

The year after he passed
The Giants won the superbowl
The Celtics won the NBA Finals
I got married (WOOHOO!)
I graduated college (finally)
Moved to Upstate NY
Nikki finally broke up with the old guy for good
My parents finally had enough of each other
My first salaried job (IT Systems Analyst)
Last but not least...
My son Caleb was born



Special thanks to
Nikki for all the bowling and Max Brenner's
Alex for all the late trips into Brooklyn until the sun came up
Adenike for wreckless driving through Manhattan and the guilt trips about keeping you out late
Maud & Chloe for the one day job of production assistant and the frequent visits at work
Best Buy for putting up with my nonsense at Chelsea and Columbus Circle
Caleb for sleeping through the night
And Sarah
You got me through October until now with your advice, insight, and love, despite the hormonal issues. You stuck with me and all my stupidity! I Love You, Forever.