I found this post in a saved file today (6/28/2021). As I read it, I thought of the recent interactions I’ve had with people. Like the friend who told me he had to call his therapist a few Tuesdays ago because he was entertaining thoughts of suicide…I didn’t know this. Or maybe the gal I supervised on probation several years ago who posted something on Facebook recently that made me think she was alone and struggling. Turns out she’s still sober, but yeah…she’s struggling. Then there is the guy who has a past with his parents. He hasn’t shared the wounds with me yet, but I knew there was something there. When I spoke with him over coffee recently, I talked about “the limp”, those injuries inflicted upon us earlier in life which we never quite recover from. Like the broken bone that never heals properly…we just learn to compensate for the injury and try to keep moving forward. The last time we spoke he said at the end there was something he had wanted to share with me for several meetings now…an injury …and he was committed to sharing it with me the next time we get together.
For whatever reason, reading through this blog “MIA” just stirred up these recent examples, so I’m reposting it.
MIA
In late April (2015), my work family was dealt a serious blow to the mid-section when a well-respected comrade, who some worked with for several decades, determined to end his life by walking in front of a moving train. He left a wife, children, and grandchildren behind. Taking his life was something we all had to wrestle with, some much more than others, but the method in which he chose to terminate that life has impacted me significantly.
I’ve been left to wrestle with so many questions that will not be answered. He was about 14 years ahead of me on this path of life…he had so much wisdom when it came to working with his clients…he had answers for so many, but could only come up with one option in the end for himself.
This article isn’t about my former co-worker’s choices, but I’ve found that his passing has seriously challenged my perspective about those relationships I have in life, and that is what this writing is about.
Life Gets In the Way
I’ve been thinking a lot about my circle of friends and questioning the strength of the connections we have. Will I know if my friends go missing-in-action; do they know if I have? Will my friends know if I have been taken captive by personal struggles which come and go; will I know if they have?
Years ago, when my knees were in much better shape, I enjoyed hiking 14’ers here in Colorado. At the trailhead of Longs Peak, a popular peak along the northern Front Range, there was a sign-in sheet with a start time, and a place to record your return. This helped authorities keep track of who was out there on the mountain. Only those totally prepared wanted to be up there when nightfall hit. It was a safety measure in place to help people be aware of whether a search & rescue team was needed.
As I considered that safety system, I began to wonder who would know if I’ve lost my way out here in life? Would anyone realize they needed to be looking for me? What about the circle of friends I am responsible to? Have we checked in lately? Are they okay? Is it possible they’re out there somewhere, bearings lost, wandering, hoping someone knows to be looking for them?
We lose touch with close friends, and then we excuse it by saying “life got in the way.” Has it really been a month since we’ve talked? Did summer really just pass without us getting together? Was it the Holidays when we last met for coffee? Mace? Was it really President’s Day 2013 when we last had lunch? Yes Mace….it was, and I’m sorry because you’re a much better friend even though you want to talk about Colorado Rockies World Series parties…and we both know that won’t happen anytime soon. (Trying to keep a serious topic somewhat light.)
Back to my former co-worker for a moment: Had it really been a year since he retired? Yeah….it had. Life must have gotten in the way. After all, he was the one retired…not me…not my co-workers… Life was busy for me. I had work, family, trips, backyard landscaping projects, etc.
Then There Was Birdman
I went to high school in Denver my junior year in 1978-79. I met “Bird” working as a sacker at a large supermarket chain the summer between my sophomore and junior year. We both loved basketball, were well over 6-foot tall, and thought we were God’s gift to the game itself. We were inseparable. We both lost our driver’s license together and rode the city bus down East Colfax into downtown Denver where we attended school…and we made fun of the crazies who rode the 15-E bus with us. (We were cocky high school boys even though we rode the city bus…we knew better but didn’t always do the right thing)
I returned to Indiana for my senior year of high school but was back in Colorado 6 months after graduating in 1980. Bird and I were back on the basketball court ruling the gyms in east Aurora….seriously, we ruled the courts. (Just went Springsteen talking about glory days…)
Life happened….and we drifted apart. He lived less than 60 miles from me for the past 20 years without us getting together. Over Memorial Day weekend 2013, he died during an accident at his house. I attended his funeral and heard stories from so many people who knew who the boy had grown up to become. What a man! Beautiful family! I missed out…… Life got in the way….
The Soldier Hiding Inside the Drunk
Anyone reading my blog may remember a story I posted with the above title several months ago. It was about a man I met while out with a co-worker on a home visit. Life suddenly became more inconvenient for me because I allowed myself to become involved with this guy on a small scale. Even though I’m not his probation officer, I have to maintain some professional boundaries. But when he called me over a week ago highly intoxicated, saying “I need a friend,” I had to drop things and get to his house.
I stood in this man’s living room once again watching him struggle to light a cigarette, and struggle even more keeping it in his mouth. Safety was an obvious concern here and when he went from standing upright on his feet to lying flat on his back in about 1.13 seconds, I had the brief thought cross my mind… “Who would know if this man was dying from alcohol poisoning?” If he had not called me prior to the alcohol fully setting in, would anyone know this man needed a search & rescue team looking for him?
It was somewhat remarkable that shortly after paramedics struggled getting him to respond to their questions, he had to be restrained by law-enforcement because he was angry I called paramedics. Being a friend to someone doesn’t always come with a smile does it? Sometimes, it comes with a fight…like when your buddy wants to drive home after a night of drinking, and he ain’t getting’ by ya with those keys in his hand.
Some Financial Advice
Relationships are like banking….and making deposits isn’t really all that fun. I want to make withdrawals and go buy things! I want the new truck! I’m happy with my 2005 Road King, but I really want to get an Ultra Classic with one of those big ol’ throne seats so Maureen can ride with comfort on a trip through Yellowstone, the Tetons, and over Beartooth Pass in southern Montana.
The problem with doing what I want is there’s usually some buyer’s remorse waiting for me down the path. I can still remember the sick feeling in my 20’s and early 30’s when the bank teller would inform me “you got nothin’!”
This goes for relationships as well. If we haven’t made deposits into the lives of others, we won’t have the option for making withdrawals when we really need it. As I say this, we also have to be aware of those potentially bad investments where we place our money and our trust…only to learn later down the road that we lost everything. The funds performance never lived up to the hype.
In The End
In the end, really, it seems like all we have is the relationships we have established. We can’t take our possessions with us. Our homes and cars are sold, our trophies, awards, and other important items are thrown out by family because they don’t know what to do with all the junk we’ve left behind. After the “stuff” is tossed, what remains is the impact our life had on those still living.
Perhaps this writing is the completion of the process begun on that day in late April when my former co-worker walked out onto those train tracks. Perhaps instead of thinking of him every time I hear the train’s horn, I will begin to think about those within my circle. Perhaps the sound of the train’s horn will begin a mental inventory to make sure my friends aren’t MIA.
Please make sure you are connected. Make sure you have friends who won’t allow life to get in the way, and will go looking for you if they haven’t heard from you. Make deposits…we will be so thankful we made them down the road. And please consider this thought: If you want a friend like that, then be a friend like that first.