Criss buddy,
In my reply to your posting just below
this one I said I wanted to make just one last posting for tonight and
leave,
but that was before I read this one.
Listen to this (and listen carefully!):
nearly ten years ago I had a boy called Steven. I knew him and was in love
with him since his 9th year and we had
some absolutely great times together. Whenever I went I would take him
with me on my motorbike and later in
my car. He was a shy redhead with large blue eyes and was at 15/16
years just beginning to find his way
into the world. One of my promises to him was that whenever he was in
trouble he just had to call for me and
I would be there whatever it would take me to do.
On friday, July 3rd 1987, I was planning
to leave for my parent's caravan up north in Holland for two weeks
holiday. Steven was my neighbour kid
there (that's were I met him). I knew he was going on holiday the next
monday (the 6th) and I thought about
calling him up and ask him to go with me on the saturday. A friend of mine
called me before I could make the call
to Steven and asked me to go swimming and have dinner on the saturday
as a means of saying goodbye for the
holidays. I thought it to be a good idea and thought "well, I'll see S.
anyway on monday, so let's spend tomorrow
with my friend and leave on sunday as planned" and so I did and
never made the call to my S. Saturday
I had some good times and went to bed.
Normally when I'm asleep only a large
explosion could wake me so to speak and I would just sleep for the
whole night. During the saturday/sunday
night I woke up for four times and couldn't find what caused it. No
sounds, no lights, nothing wrong. Finally
I got out of bed, started packing and left at 11:00 for my parent's place.
When I got there my folks behaved in
some akward way and finally at the end of the afternoon they asked me to
sit down and listen to some afwul news.
It appeared that my boy had taken his motorbike on the saturday to visit
a friend some 20 miles away and apparently
made an error of judgement while crossing a road. A car smacked
him head on, he broke both his legs,
one arm, his chest bones were crushed and he had bad head injuries. They
took him to a hospital nearby where
they found that his main artery (the aorta) was split and he finally bled
to
death internally on the operation table.
His pain has been tremendous AND I WASN'T THERE TO BE WITH
HIM even if it was just for him to be
able to die with someone who loved him at his side.
Where was I with my promises to be there
for him ? The final moment when he needed me more than any I
wasn't there and he was to die all by
himself without someone familiar to be there for him! Apart from being
devastated I hated myself for not being
at his side and for not calling him to go with me on the saturday so it
never would have happened.
He was buried on the 9th and it took
everything I got mentally to be there. After some days his parents asked
me
over to talk and we had some very sincere
and loving talks. They knew I had loved him so much and they
wanted me to know they were very impressed
by the love I had shown him and the care I had for him. And all I
could feel was disgust about myself
for letting my boy down when it really mattered the most.
I was in the dark for two years before
Nico came along and things went the way they went. I have talked with
Nico many times about Steven and showed
him the pictures I had from him. For years my feelings of guilt
haunted me and I couldn't be at peace
with myself for it.
Two years ago I ran into Steven's older
brother Ronald at a birthday party and we sat down outside in the cold
talking about things. Finally I broke
down on the floor crying and he sat down next to me, putting his arms
around me and hugging me. He asked whether
I still hadn't accept the inevitable and I explained why I felt the
way I did. About not being there, about
not making the call, about teaching the boy to drive the fucking
motorbike that killed him. Ronald looked
at me and this is what he hammered home to me.
"I'm his brother. Will you accept what
I have to say as from one who understood and loved him and knew and
knows what he felt and thought ? Then
believe I just know he did love you till his last second and he would never
ever hold it against you that you weren't
there. Even when you would have made the phonecall he would have
stayed at home because he'd already
agreed with his friend on the visit earlier. Even when you hadn't taught
him
to drive the thing I myself or someone
else would have taught him. Even when you had heard about the accident
right away you would never ever have
made it on time before he died. I live just 15 minutes away and I was too
late. And as for you waking up time
and again during that horrible night without knowing what had happened,
please believe it was his spirit or
whatever trying to tell you that he loved you and that he wanted you to
be free
of all guilt concerning it all and he
tried to say goodbye to you before he finally left this world."
Ronald told me this over and over and
over again for nearly three hours before I was finally able starting to
accept it. Maybe Steven had tried to
tell me something during that night, maybe not. I just know I had some
similar experience when Nico was taken
desperately ill with appendicitis some years after. Maybe I'll tell you
later. I believe now that death is not
the end. Somewhere out there Steven is happy and free of all pain, walking
with my dog as he used to do all the
days we knew each other before the dog preceded him by 6 months. And
then it was Steven who had been there
for me. And I wouldn't know anyone better to take care of my old dog
over there than Steven or any dog to
take better care of my Steven wherever they are.
Well, this has become rather a long post
after all. My bottom line to you, sweet raisin, is that you are never ever
to be blamed (and least by yourself)
for your brother's death, just as I finally realized that I wasn't to blame
for
Steven's death. The decision to use
drugs was your brothers', not yours. The decision to take the route he
took
was his, not yours. The decision to
come and get you and your friends in the first place was his, not yours.
This
doesn't mean I blame your brother for
what happened to him. I blame the people that brought him to the drugs,
selling it to him, stimulating him to
use it and the people that by their behaviour towards him maybe made him
wanting it to use it. At some points
in time certain circumstances just add up and end up in a devastating disaster
for us.
Criss, for heaven's sake, stop doing
this to yourself !! I do know how you feel more than anyone else - apart
from Awaken Dad, because his pain must
be infinitely bigger than mine - and from what I get from your post
your brother loved you and never would
have wanted you to feel guilty about something YOUR CANNOT BE
BLAMED FOR. I'm sure that your brother
is also out there, free from pain, and that he loves you and maybe is
chatting with Steven, PJ and Larry on
some celestial BoyChat or playing with my dog. I'm not afraid to die
anymore, I know I've friends out there
to welcome me when my time has come.
And you, sweet boy, also have friends
caring for you and loving you for who and what you are. It's no use
running away for your pain. Only talking
about it again and again will take the burden from you, just as Ronald's
indefatigable talking and hugging (and
I had someone in the flesh then !) finally opened up the way for me to
accept everything that happened.
Please feel free to spill your guts
about it whenever you need to. I for one love you and will always listen
to you.
Again, please stop hurting yourself. It's no use and it's not fair. You deserve far better.
Well, it took me nearly 1,5 hours to write this and I'm still crying. Just stop it, OK ? Please ?
I DO LOVE YOU.
Llewellyn
To Dad: Sorry I didn't react to your
calling out for me. I believe the above says it all. I'm with you and love
you
too.
Llewellyn
now please visit Steven's place in Sumerland
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