Memories of John

I still remember the first time I met John. I was sitting at my desk at work and Dr. "Oregon" (she's the doctor that moved away to Oregon) walked John over to my desk to introduce us. Dr. Oregon went on to explain that John's the new doctor that we hired to work in the clinic and that he's looking for housing. I guess John had found a place to stay but it was in a very questionable area in town. There was a murder and a shooting a while back at those apartments (so I heard). So Dr. Oregon introduced us with the intention that I could tell John a little about the apartments I live in now, so maybe he can move out of his death zone and into my safe apartments. So we started talking and he grew more and more interested in my apartments. So at lunch time, I walked him over to our leasing office and got him signed up for a 6 month lease for a furnished apartment. He made a decision so quickly. But then again, anything is better than that shady area he was going to live at.

He was really happy I "helped" him find housing and he wanted to take me out to dinner to thank me. I really didn't do anything at all. I just walked him over the lease office and told him a little about the apartment. But that's how he always was. The smallest, most insignificant thing you do for him, he will treat it as if you smuggled him out of a concentration camp during the Holocaust and saved his life. So knowing me, I can't resist food, so we went out either that night or the night after for dinner at Olive Garden. That was the first meal we shared together.

He was all smiles the whole night. So excited about being in a new city, meeting new people, starting a new job, I guess. Or maybe he's just, in general, a very happy person. He learned about me and I learned about him. I found out why he moved here. He told me that his mother, father, and girlfriend all passed away within 1 year of each other and it just became too painful to live there anymore. He had to move away and start a new life. "Wow, that's terrible, I feel so bad for him" is what I remember thinking. That's really rough. Having both your parents and your potential significant other pass away so close to each other? Gosh, I think I would have lost it. I also found out that night his girlfriend passed away from lymphoma. That made me think of you. So when we were done eating, as he promised, he treated me. We wrapped up our conversation and went home. That was the very first meal we shared together. I can still remember where we were sitting in the restaurant and all his mannerisms. I remember thinking he had an interesting way of eating pasta. He would wrap as much pasta up in a fork as he could, put the pasta ball into his mouth, the rest of the loose pasta strands that hung down from his mouth, he slurped up the pasta and covered his mouth while he was doing it.

After he treated me to that Olive Garden dinner, which I was so thankful for, I was planning on treating him the next time we went out, if we ever did decide to go out again. But little did I know, this trend of him treating me out would continue for the rest of friendship. He was always so generous. I've never paid for a single meal when we dined out together. I got really close one time. He went to the restroom right when the bill came. I quickly pulled out my card and paid for the meal. When he came back and found out that I had paid already, he was shocked and adamant that I take the cash back. When I refused, he just left the cash on the table and started walking away. Which basically if I didn't take the money, then the waitresses would have had a HUGE tip. I guess I could have left the money on the table, but I took it with me and ran to catch up with John. I was surprised to find John so stubborn against letting me pay for any meals we shared together.

So after our first encounter and our meal we shared together, we gradually grew closer since we lived in the same apartment complex and worked in the same clinic. Very shortly, we were pretty much eating lunch and dinner together. Whether it be something he cooked or something that he would buy, he would feed me like I was his daughter. That's what he ended up calling me, "my half-daughter". That's sweet of him.

He really liked to walk. That was his form of exercise. He had neck pain and knee issues, so he really couldn't perform high impact activities. He would invite me to go walking with him from time to time. He found a park that had a long 1 mile track. I wouldn't believe him at first, so I went on google maps and I mapped it out. Then I told my fiance and he didn't believe me and he went on google map and mapped it out. It is indeed, a 1 mile track. It has gentle incline and declines and there's a big grass area in the middle of the track for picnics, BBQs, playgrounds, etc. He really really liked this park. It became his favorite really fast. He liked to watch the kids play and eat in the grassy area while he walked around the track.

He really likes kids. His eyes would light up every time he talked about kids or saw a child. I think you know how I feel about some babies...not all are cute. Well, he thought every child is beautiful, an amazing masterpiece, the ultimate symbol of love. He has such a kind and loving heart.

When John bought his house here, he was so excited. He really liked this place. He thinks that it's nice because it has a small town feel and it's quiet. It doesn't have the hustle and bustle feeling of a big city. He said he wants to eventually retire here. I guess in a sense, he did "retire" here. He was so happy about purchasing his new home, that he threw a party at work. He ordered a ton of pizza, bought a ton of chips, dips, drinks and treated everyone in the clinic to lunch. Because he was "hosting" the lunch, he barely ate. He just was pacing around making sure everyone got enough food.

I still remember helping him move. That weekend his sister came to help him. It was the first time I met her. In the short few months he'd been here, he sure accumulated a lot of stuff! Some of it he gave away to me, and most of it he would either trash or donate. I only helped him move mainly books and clothes. He was so thankful. He always gives and gives and rarely asks for anything in return. I really don't think he even asked me to help him move, I think he just told me he was moving and I volunteered. He was incredibly grateful. And I was happy I was finally able to do something for him, to thank him for always feeding me.

My fiance came to visit me here. I really wanted him to meet John. So the night we went out together for dinner we went to this Mexican restaurant and it was a huge fiasco because they wouldn't let us order anything we wanted. But when we finally found something to order, I really wanted my fiance to pay for him to thank him for all the meals he's paid for me. John's reasoning to always pay for me is because knows I have loans to pay back and he doesn't, so he wanted me to save my money to pay back my loans. So I thought he would accept my fiance paying for him since my fiance works and doesn't have any loans. But he insisted on paying for us, and it just made me feel even worse, because now he not only paid for me, but for my fiance too.

My mom, grandma, aunt and uncle came to visit me here too. I wanted them to meet John so we all went out to dinner together. And, of course, he paid for my whole family! I really thought I could pay for that meal, but no, he is just too generous. When my friends came to visit me (that's you) he invited us over to his house and fed us. Basically, it's always him being incredibly generous and me feeling forever grateful towards his kindness.

 I told John about how I was wearing my friend's old engagement ring from her failed marriage. I didn't want her to throw it away because it was white gold and it was really pretty...and it fit my finger. So I've been wearing it since I was undergrad. John convinced me to get rid of it because he thought it was giving me bad luck. I don't know if it's just coincidence, but shortly after I got rid of it, I got engaged. Kinda funny how that worked out huh? I really should thank John for making me get rid of the ring, because it's really moved my life along.

I watched the Imitation Game last night with my students. It's a really good and educational movie. But if you haven't seen it, it does mention suicide in the movie. That really struck a chord with me since John's incident. I used to just hear about suicide and it would be sad, but I didn't think too much of it. Now that it's happened to someone that I was so close to, it means so much more. To be in so much pain that you would want to end your own life, that really speaks volumes. I'm really trying to focus more on celebrating his life and less on how it ended. Maybe it's too soon, but it's still difficult for me to completely ignore how his life ended. His choice to end it sooner than God's plan. Well, maybe not "God" per say but a bigger being?

Sorry, this blog entry is just all over the place. I'm just thinking of random memories and jotting down all these random thoughts.

I have to accept he's gone now. It pains me that he won't be there at my wedding in Sept. He was so excited about it when I got engaged and he would always ask me about my wedding plans. He even told me one time "I don't care if it's in China, I will for sure come to your wedding!" He's also told me that he would for sure come visit me when I move away. These are all just blank promises now. It's really odd when someone passes away, I feel like it's a joke and they aren't really dead. I feel like he can just appear in front of me at any moment or call me on the phone and I'm going to meet up with him again and we are going to share more meals together. It hasn't clicked to me those things aren't going to happen anymore. Such an odd feeling to think someone is gone forever. Just like that, the last chapter of their book is closed.

I can think of a few songs that John has mentioned to me that he really likes. He likes that "Best day of my life song". I thought it was very uplifting and fun song. He really liked John Legend's "All of me" song. He first heard it when we went to a co-worker's daughter's wedding together. It was their first dance song. Very lovely song. He thought it was beautiful.

Sometimes I wonder if it's the desolant desert that brought about his demise. Would this have happened if he was in a busier city? Had more job opportunities? Had more friends/family around? Had more activities/hobbies to occupy his time? Well, considering I will never know the reason he took his life, I will never get these questions answered.

Dr. Oregon shared with me that there were people that tried to commit suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge and they survived. All the people that survived mentioned that they were really glad they hadn't died. They were really happy to have gotten a second chance. And almost all of them regreted it once they jumped, but obviously it was already too late to change their mind, they were about to hit the water. It makes me think of John. What was going on in his mind moments before he got hit by the big rig? Was it regret or relief that he's going to be at peace soon? If he survived, what would his thoughts have been? Would he be relieved he survived or would he try to takes his life again?

Always, I'm going to have so many qustions about John. But obviously, I'm never going to get an answer, so I should just stop asking them. I'm focusing on just acceptance and moving on. Acceptance...and moving on...

John's food

This week is finally over! I'm so relieved!

John's sister told me to go over to John's house last night and pick up some things. She gave me all his motivational magnets on his fridge. I gave him one of them, a Colorado magnet I picked up from going to Academy this year. That certainly struck a cord with me when I looked at all those magnets. There is one that has two pigs on it with the caption "We have to stop eating like this". He got that one to remind him to stop pigging out because whenever he ate with me, we would just eat, chat, eat and chat. He said he was concerned about his weight gain so that magnet was supposed to suppress his desires to pig out with me. Haha. Then there was another magnet that has a cartoon bear running ofter a cartoon man with the caption "Canadian Fast Food". I never really understood that magnet but he thought it was a hoot. He really liked it. It was nice to be reminded of those moments with him.

John's sister also gave me a lot of his frozen food. Four GIANT trash bags full of food. She needed to get rid of everything in his house, so taking that food off her hands really helped her. I took all that food back, I knew it couldn't fit in my fridge so I offered some to my students. They ended up telling me it's a bad omen to take food from the deceased. "He might come back and ask for his food back" is what one of them told me. As soon as he said that, chills went down my back. I ended up tossing ALL the food away.

Like I said, it's not like I don't want to see John again, but I'm sooooooo deathly afraid of ghosts and supernatural beings that I really would rather not have any encounters. I was so scared the rest of the night, I almost lost my mind.

Every second I spend alone has left me wallowing in with negativity. I'm really grateful my student has been so willing to keep me company during the night. Last night, both of them came over to keep me sane after the food fiasco! With them over, immediately, the entire vibe of my apartment was transformed. It felt so lively and happy. So different than when I'm there alone: so fearful, anxious and sad.

They studied and worked on their presentation (which is next week). They don't have wifi at their apartment so they were really grateful to use my wifi to look things up and do research for their presentation.

I slept late, but I slept so well last night. My students are night owls so they stayed up chatting and laughing about things. 

Early this morning, one of them woke up and went back to their apartment. He said he couldn't bring all his beauty products and do his whole morning routine at my place. He's so funny.

A few people at work at putting together funds of money to donate to a local charity of choice in John's name. I think John would really like that. He spent his life giving back and doing charity work. I heard the funds are over $100 already. I'm so happy to hear that.

I'm really happy to go home today. So I won't be alone anymore. I'm dreading the drive back where I'll be alone again. I have to remember to bring tissues, I always forget. And I'm left with snot and dried tears streaming down my face. Not a good look.

Long, tortuous nights

Nighttimes have been difficult, I'm not going to lie. There are so many distractions during the day, people, work, music, sounds, etc etc that I don't have time to feel sad. But when clinic is over and I go home, that's when it's tough. Tough to be alone with my thoughts, the sound of my co-worker's voice echoing in my head: "He committed suicide" over and over and over again. Letting the news sink in, as if it was the first time I heard it. Replaying the scene of how it must have happened. How he must have felt as the big rig came hurddling towards him. Trying to understand the last few thoughts that ran through his mind moments before he passed away. I don't know what the actual scene looked like, but what I'm imagining looks pretty horrific.

My fiance keeps telling me I should not think about it anymore and try to focus on happy thoughts or watch something funny on TV before I go to sleep but I can't help it. It's so quiet in my apartment, just me, myself and I. Every little rattle, tick, or jingle startles me. The worse is when I try to turn off all the lights, laying in the dark, in the silence, just listening to my clock tick/tock as each second turns into mins, and mins turns into hours and I'm still wide awake. I would open my eyes wide every so often to make sure there isn't anyone or anything hovering over me while I slept. I know, creeepy.

My heart rate must have been off the charts. I would feel my heart racing out of my chest and the blood rushing to my head. I felt my ears burn with heat. I would have to calm myself down by doing deep breathing, focusing on my breathing. But it didn't help. The clock keeps ticking. There's a crack. Eyes wide open. What was that?? I don't know. The room is empty. No one is there. Or is there? I close my eyes tight, my heart beats out of my chest, I feel my ears burning up, the rest of my body gets warm too, I'm too afraid to push my comforter off of me. It's my only layer of protection from the unknown. From whatever I am afraid of. I can't even tell you what I'm afraid of, I'm just afraid. The clock keeps ticking. There's a rattle from the sink. What was that?? Just pipes? I don't know. My eyes would open, nothing, no one is there. Or is there?

This was seriously how I spent the entire night! It was terrible trying to battle the demons in my head. The terror of facing the cold, silent night with nothing but my taunting thoughts. Needless to say, I was pretty tired at work yesterday.

A few co-workers came by to check on me and make sure I was ok. I appreciated their kind words. I am haunted by this tragic event, but I'm not overwhelmed by saddness. I'm getting by ok. My students actually really helped me recover. They are both uplifting and supportive but not smoothering. They let me come to them, they didn't pry. They listened when I opened up but didn't tip toe around me or caudle me. I liked that. They even took me out for a stromboli after work. Their treat. It was really nice of them. I got to talk about it more and got more feelings off my chest. It was nice. The restaurant we went to was around John's house. We had actually eaten at that same stromboli place before and sat at the same bench that we sat at last night. I have to say, it was hard to relive  those memories as they flashed past my mind. Driving down the same freeway, driving by his house, sitting where we sat many months ago and eating the foods that we once shared together.

I'm really glad my students were there. They really did help ease the pain.

In a desperate attempt to get some sleep, I asked them if they could stay with me last night at my apartment. One of them came, the other one said it would be too difficult to bring over all his supplies to get ready in the morning, since he's more high maintenance. It was nice to have him in my apartment. It really made a huge difference. He came over pretty late, 11:30pm. I wasn't asleep yet, I can't sleep. We chatted for a while, until 1am. And we finally went to sleep. He slept in another room on the couch and I slept where I normally did, the futon in the livingroom.

It was so much easier sleeping with him there. But I was still a little afraid. I would hear noises, which would have freightened me beyond belief, but with him there, I was a little more brave. I was able to fall asleep and I woke up more well rested this morning. I woke him up and made him some breakfast. It was nothing fancy, just reheated up things my parents made. We got ready together and went to work.

I wonder how much longer I have to live like this. I fear asking him to spend the night again. But I really do think it helps with him over. Maybe he can just stay for the rest of this week?

RIP John

It's been half a year since my last blog entry. And I regret to say my return to blogging is due to a major tragedy. Last Friday 1/30/15, my very close friend, John, committed suicide. He jumped in front of a big rig and by the time he was rushed to the hospital, he had been pronounced dead. At least that's what the newspapers say. I was there to witness it and I surely wasn't aware that he was that depressed. It happened around 8am on Friday. I was at work. He was pronounced dead by 9 or 10am (different sources gave different times). I was still at work. I'm trying to recall what I was doing at work around that time, but that's moot point I guess.

I drove home after work that day. Still blissfully unaware that this tragic event had taken place. It wasn't until early Saturday morning, I was awaken at 6am from a phone call. It was my co-worker. I was still dazed, half asleep as I answered. I heard her voice. It was shaky.

Co-worker: Hi, sorry to wake you, but I was just wondering if you had heard about John.
me: No...what happened?
co-worker: He committed suicide yesterday.

Those words echoed in my mind. I actually still replay my co-worker's exact voice, saying "committed suicide yesterday" over and over in my mind. It's surreal.

There's so many questions, "what?", "when?", "where?", "how?", and my biggest question: "WHY?!?!?!?!??!?!". What has happened? Where have I been?? How could I have let this happen?? Am I to blame for this?? Could I have prevented this?? When was the last time I saw him?? Why didn't he say goodbye to me?? Why didn't he say goodbye?? WHY DIDN'T HE SAY GOODBYE??

I couldn't believe it! I had to google the news myself! Link after link, I pulled up three different sources that confirmed the same thing. This awful truth. This nightmare. John really committed suicide. This is real. It's not a dream.

You know, you always hear about people that commit suicide or you see it on TV, or you see those suicide hotline signs when you drive on a bridge, but never would I have imagined that it would hit so close to home. My close friend, someone that I've gotten to know so well for the past year and a half.

My whole weekend was a daze, to be honest. After I heard about John, I called his sister and of course, she was hysterical. I had to many questions for her, but it felt so inappropriate to interrogate her when she was so grief stricken. I really had no idea what to say. In between her sobs I would just try to throw in a "I'm so sorry" but I was really trying to hold it together myself. After I hung up the phone with her, I surprisingly was able to compose myself and got straight to work.

You see, the reason I came home this weekend was to help my grandma figure out an insurance fiasco so she can go see a doctor about some back pain she's been experiencing. She somehow got switched out of her medicare and into some HMO which changed all her doctors, urgent care centers and ER's she's able to go to.

So I spent most of my Saturday morning calling medicare, then I called her current HMO and figured out a few urgent care centers that are covered. I ate a quick breakfast and whisked my grandma off to an urgent care center. After >3hours of waiting/examining, she was diagnosed with a pinched sciatic nerve. I filled her prescriptions, got her home, cooked her some food, fed her some meds, and she felt better and slept like a baby the rest of the day.

I kept myself busy for the whole first half of Saturday, so I wouldn't have down time to think about John. But when my grandma went to bed, my parents were both at work, I had the house all to myself and that's when it started to hit me. John's gone, he committed suicide. He was THAT depressed. And I missed it? Or did I? Did I see signs but just didn't help him? Could I have helped him? Again, so many questions. I broke down for a little bit, but it didn't last long. My emotions came in waves.

It really helped talking to some friends about it and just getting it off my chest. I want to tell more people that knew him about what has happened, but I'm not sure if that's in my place. Do I want to be the bearer of bad news?

Saturday ended with me sleeping early. Sunday came around and again, it was a daze. I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to be reacting. Should I grieve? If so, should I be crying the whole day? Am I really grieving if I'm not crying? If I cry do people think I'm weak? If I don't cry, do people think I'm cold?

I had to drive back to this place of tragedy, John's final resting place. I had 2.5 hours of alone time in the car during my  long drive back. Normally, it's very difficult for me to stay awake, but that wasn't the case this time. My roller coaster of emotions kept me wide awake. There would be periods of the drive where I would break down and cry, then there would be periods where I would be ok, then periods of crying and then I'd be ok. John was on my mind the whole drive. I finally decided halfway there that I would drive straight to John's house, where his sister is still staying, and just check in on her. And that's exactly what I did.

Of course, it was a tear fest when I saw her. She helped answer a lot of questions I had. John had been depressed for >2 weeks now. He had been having health issues and he couldn't work anymore. He had to quit his job, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to be a doctor anymore. That was his passion, being a doctor and helping people. He was so depressed that he wouldn't be able to help people anymore that he stopped sleeping, he stopped eating, he barely talked, he was so sad. I heard from his sister that he just sat around for almost 2 weeks straight. The last few days before his suicide, he didn't sleep at all, he was up 24 hours straight. His sister tried to talk to him and would force feed him food, but he wouldn't talk and he barely ate, and he wouldn't sleep. That's her theory of why he killed himself, he just couldn't live with himself not being able to help others anymore.

His sister told me that I was very special to him. He would often talk about me, saying how pure of heart I was and what a nice person I am. She told me that he really does think of me as a half-daughter. He always enjoyed spending time with me. He didn't used to like watching movies/TV but he would rent movies just to watch them with me, he thought it was really special watching movies together with me. He enjoyed eating with me, if he had a choice, he would eat dinner with me every night. I was one of the reasons that he stayed here and one of the reasons he was happy here. She told me that he really valued my friendship.

Those words really brought tears of joy and tears of sorrow. I cried and cried with his sister, as expected. Although I don't really feel like I deserve such praise, I'm really honored to have made such a big difference in his life. I really truly am.

"You may be only one person in the world, but you may be the world to one person"