I like to fix things. If you’ve known me for any length of time I’ve probably tried to tell you how to use your computer better, fix your Internet connection, or give you some productivity tips to get through the workday with a little less stress.
The harder the problem is, the more reward I get out of solving it, it’s just in my blood. This is also why when there’s a problem that has no solution arises, it bothers me. I think this is one of the reasons I’m so damn depressed still about the passing of my cousin Sean. I put off being closer with him and the rest of my family for quite a few years due to some bullshit problems I had with my father. I let time pass on without measure because of a grudge I held and applied to everyone in a given direction.
I know Sean didn’t hold that against me, and I’m pretty sure he understood why I was doing it, but the problem is I can’t tell him. I can’t say I’m sorry for being a jerk to someone who did nothing wrong for so long, now all I can do is remember him and see pictures that I wasn’t in and hear stories that I wasn’t a part of.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that Sean was by far a better man than I’ll ever be, and I’m ok with that. He did things I’ll never be able to do and instead of being jealous, that has always made me so damn proud to call him family.
I feel like a poser being sad now and talking to my family because I didn’t want to when everything was going well, but now that there’s sadness, I’m talking to people again, and taking the tragedy to heart. I feel like my sadness is fake, no matter how real it seems, because I wasn’t there for years welcoming him home and sending him care packages overseas.
I did keep track of when he was deployed in dangerous places, and I welcomed his emails when he sent them, but thanks to holding a grudge with my father over something, I let that time slip away.
I’m trying my best to make up for that time now, to spend time with family and to talk with his friends about how great he was, and while I feel like they’re probably judging me for being so sad while I was never around, I just don’t care. I feel guilty and above that, I’m so very sad that this is a problem that I can’t fix.
Half of my sadness comes from knowing I’ll never talk to Sean again, and from seeing what his passing has done to his friends and to our family, but the other half comes from a place much deeper; guilt. I feel guilty that I didn’t take advantage of the time I had, and that it took such a huge awakening to get me seeing things straight.
I was stupid, and I’m pretty sure I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for this mistake and that I’ll never truly feel like I have. I feel guilty because I let an ancillary issue cloud my judgement and above all, I just miss my cousin. The world was a better place with him in it, and I feel like it’s up to everyone that knew him to pick up that slack and make the world a little better without him, and I don’t know if I can pick up my share of the slack or not.
This is the first real slump I’ve ever found myself in and I don’t believe I see the light at the end of it. Believe me, I am VERY far from truly depressed or otherwise afflicted with any mental issues, I just feel guilty and really want some time back to make things better. I want the chance to fix my mistake but I know that’s impossible to achieve.
I know there’s no afterlife, and I know that when I talk to Sean that he can’t hear me since he’s not there, but it makes me feel better. So Sean, this part’s for you, even though I know you’ll never hear it:
I’m sorry. I let bullshit get in the way that I shouldn’t have. I took the easy way out and let things go for too long and now I can’t fix them. Instead of Skyping with you every weekend I get to read what others have to say about you. Instead of hearing about your 100+ confirmed rescues from you, I heard about it from your friends, which by the way are doing a damn fine job keeping your name fresh in everyone’s minds.
Instead of hearing from you what your favorite song to play in marching band was, I heard it on the field at the first Montour game of the season, where they dedicated it to you. Overall, I just miss you man, and I wish I had more time. I wish I could fix this problem, but it’s not fixable. I did start talking to the family again, which is a great thing. In the end it ended up being your last gift to me, helping me talk to the family that can so easily be taken away. Thanks man, love ya.