Missing Scott

Dear Scott,

It's days like today that I miss you the most. Days where the clouds cover the sky and the rain and snow fall, causing a cold and bitter mood over the city. More than anything I miss how you would play your instruments on days like today- and how it didn't matter what instruments you knew how to play or not, it came so easily to you. I envied you for that- and you shrugged it off, not knowing what honest potential and talent you had. You could play the piano, the tuba, the trumpet, the guitair, the banjo, the fiddle, the saxophone and any other instrument you held in your hands.

Days like today remind me of when we were Juniors, and I was getting abused by the boyfriend I was with. You knew it was happening, and you were the only one I showed the bruises to.
Days like today were the worst when he would hurt me. I was in physical pain and emotional- but I knew I could come talk to you. We would sit on the front porch and talk about everything, you would make me laugh and I would cry on your shoulder. You would wrap an arm around me and hold me there until I was safe to go. When I was in my lowest point- you were the one there for me.

We met in middle school, when I returned in eighth grade from a private school. We had U.S. History together and you defended me when Dale made fun of me for being a girl. He told me to get back into the kitchen where I belong and you threw a punch. Our teacher broke up the fight, and I thanked you for defending me. We shared stupid jokes and added friends to our group. Each year we had more and more classes together and by the end of sophomore year we had four classes together and we even worked together.

It was the three of us. Bubbalicious, Rudy and Tuba. Me, Wes and you. I remember the first day they called you Tuba- the band teacher in middle school couldn't remember names to save his life and so he called you Tuba- because it was what you played. To this day we still call you Tuba, remembering how much you didn't like to be called Scott.

I can only imagine what pain your father went through when he found you in the basement like that. You mother was upstairs sobbing, your father not letting her actually see what had happened. He stormed down there to ask you to turn off the loud music- a simple request when dealing with teenagers- to discover that horrific sight. The story was told to me that you planned it our pretty well, and that by the time we could have helped you it was far too late and you were far too gone.

When I saw your father four days later he stood tall- just like you did. Not a tear to be seen- bragging about what an amazing man you are- about your big heart. He embraced me, tears filling my eyes. The only thing he could tell me was something I will never forget. "Not all big men have big hearts- but Scott...his heart was gold. He loved everyone. He didn't have a mean bone in his body." You died 45 minutes before my grandfather died- and I hated the world for it. I could not attend your funeral- and over the last two years I have walked the cemetry trying to find your headstone so I can finally say goodbye. Not knowing where you are is the hardest thing in the world.

I was out of town, by the air force base, competing at a HOSA tournament. You talked me into it- telling me that it wouldn't hurt any and I could only gain recognition. I forgot my phone charger and my phone died within the first day. I called my grandfather- who was placed in a care center and was in bad shape. That night the dead phone was receiving multiple voice mails from you. At the awards ceremony a mutual friend had to tell me the news. One of my EMT classmates saw my tears and donated a phone charger. What happened next stopped my world.

"You have seven new voice mails." The voice said, then led to the first one. You weren't well. You were upset- you needed someone to talk to you. The second one was the same, thirty minutes later. The third one was an hour later- this time you were crying. As I kept listening goosebumps covered my body and I buried my head in my hands. Guilt swept over me like a wave in this emotional ocean and I couldn't face myself and hung up before I could hear the last two.

Wes married Cassie after the joined the army. Wes and I still don't ever talk, and I don't think we will now that you are gone. I met Bubba, who you were good friends with through band. You would've gone on double dates with us- because we both liked you and your girlfriend. You would've been the first to congratulate us when we got engaged.

If you were still alive you would have married Clarissa. She made a mistake, and she regrets it all the time. I still see her from time to time, and she is in bad shape. The whole school blamed her for it. I wish I could talk to you, just to find out what happened between you two. It's her word against your actions, and everyone took it to heart. She graduated and then fell off the face of the earth.

Your myspace pages still exists, and is full of comments from friends, including me. We know there is no myspace or facebook in heaven, but we still post on there, getting the pain and the emotion out there, even if there is no where. They post about how much they miss you, about how they wish you could've made it two more months, about how much it hurts to have you gone. It's been well over two years, and still, the friends who were true still post. You can feel their pain, read the haunting words, and we all wonder why you did it.

You brought us together Tuba. You made us believe all over again- where we would normally doubt god, religion and heaven, you made all of us believe it- and we do.

You never ceased to make me laugh, and your talents were so different and you were so great at it. When I started dating a cowboy you brought a banjo to school and played 'Dueling Banjos' with Dale, just to harass me. You refused to get contacts, because you loved being 'the guy with the glasses.' You dreamed about being a Marine, and you would have made an excellent one.

Days like today I pull out my yearbooks, my old photos and your myspace and try to feel you around us for one more day. You left too soon Tuba- and you left a lot of us hurt.
I love you, and miss you more than you will ever know.
See you soon man.

The Wiser Man

Growing up, my father used to always tell me, "A wise man learns from his own mistakes, but an even wiser man learns from others mistakes." During that time in my life I would simply roll my eyes and sigh, then continue on with my life.

During the last few days I have seen and done many different things that are just a typical part of everyday life. Things that most people wouldn't think twice about. However, some of these basic things just stuck out so strong in my mind, that the quote above nearly forced me to sit down and write in my blog today.

In medicine, we learn from other peoples mistakes daily. If a doctor give the wrong diagnosis, other physicians quickly fall into line to ensure that they do not also make the same mistake. If a nurse gives the wrong medications, they quickly create protocol to ensure that things are double checked. If an HCA charts the wrong set of vitals, we ensure that it is caught before the wrong care is given. Mistakes happen, but we always try harder. We try to verify we are the wiser men. However, real life is very different.

In real life, we don't always learn from others mistakes, even though we should. As a child, when my brother would say inappropriate things and got punished, I should have learned that I too, should not do that. Unfortunately as I child I had to feel the wrath of my parents in order to learn better. When it comes to family, some people make the same mistakes over, and over and over.

Human kind is meant to make mistakes. We are meant to both succeed, and fail. Its how we were born. How we were programmed. But human kind is also meant to grow. Fortunately after so many years of making mistakes, I have found that for once I have learned from others. Its a blessing and a curse, but it has made me that much smarter.

I wanted to take a moment to repeat the quote that my father had reminded me of so many times, because he was the wiser man in my life. Dad, thank you, for making sure that you taught me well, that you taught me right. I truly feel as if I have conquered a mountain in my life.