Saturday, February 05, 2011
Man Of The Hour
The past 24 hours marked the second anniversary of the death of the greatest friend I have or ever will have the honor of being a part of my life. Joseph Scott Ingram, or to his friends "Joey", passed away 2 years and a little over 8 hours ago after a lifetime of constant health battles including Diabetes, reoccurring cases of Leukemia, and Dyskeratosis Congenita. He was dealt one of the worst hands in life, and yet he was also one of the strongest, bravest, kindest and smartest people I have ever known.
I have spent the last 24 hours in a constant emotional rage, and it never occurred to me that the memory of seeing him lying there in that hospital bed, dying, while I stood there unable to save him is the reason why. It wasn't that I didn't think of him today; I think about him a lot, especially February 4th (the day he was taken from us) and July 15th, his birthday. And yet, the odd thing is that since I got the call from our mutual good friend Ken about his admittance to the hospital, seeing him dying, the funeral (of which Ken and I had the honor of being the only non-family pallbearer's), the memorial service and the following months of depression and heartache, I have yet to cry. I have not shed one tear. Now all that know me will testify to the fact that I am not in any way an emotionally open person; I can count on one hand the times I can remember actually crying, and yet the loss of this great person fills me with not only sorrow but rage.
Why are only the best taken from us so early? Joey never once complained about his illnesses and he never asked "why me". He was the nicest, most polite person on the planet; he literally could not have an enemy; there was just not one bit of him not to like. And he is gone, and I am angry and sad and I miss my friend so much that I punch holes in my walls, and yet I am unable to cry. I am too angry to cry. Why did it have to be him? Millions of racist's, homophobes, bigot's, war mongers and war profiteers and millions more of people who live with their heart's filled with hatred are walking around and living out their hatred or masking it behind some facade of religion or politics, and the world gets a little darker because life chose him instead.
I am honored to have him in my life, and I wish all of you could have had the chance to know him. He was the best of all of us, and now he is gone. It should have been anyone, anybody else at all instead of him. I wish it was me instead; I would gladly have traded places if I could. He made those around him radiate with joy and comfort, and the world would be a little less dark if it had been me instead.
He was truly the best of us all. Joey, I miss you so much and I know the pain will never go away. But I will see you again my friend, my brother, my hero. Even though The Man Of The Hour has taken his final bow, as the curtain comes down I feel that this is just goodbye for now.
We were but stones; your light made us stars.