My Tributes

My Tribute

I first wrote this part of my page about a year ago. Yes, that's how long I've taken to update it. It never even got typed, much less uploaded. So here I am, on an early Monday morning (when I say early I mean 2:30am) and I've decided to write a tribute to someone, to something.

A really special person in my life died last year ('98). His name was Brad. Many people used to compare me to him, I guess because we had similar personality traits. I really hated that, because I thought of Brad as scruffy and pencil eating. And now he's dead. Now that he's dead, and there's no time to see him every now and again, or hear him rant and rave about something that pisses him off, I've chosen to remember the good things about him and what he taught me about me, other people and life.

I remember one night we were talking at a party. He said to me that I had no confidence, and that I shouldn't judge how people feel about me before I take the time to find out. I was telling him about a crush of mine and how I felt like I could never get him. He asked me how I knew that, and how was I so sure that this guy had no feelings for me and that he wasn't as scared as I was to make a move. I can't remember exactly, but I think Brad's view left me laughing and left me very sad.

Flash to the January of 1998. Brad was sitting in the classroom overcome with pain in his sides. He said it was a regular thing. He used muscle relaxers to get rid of the pain. After all, they were cramps right? Wrong. He was in a state of semi-paralysis and preferred not to move until some friends got the medication for him. I stuck my fingers in his abdomen and began to pull and knead so that it felt better. It did, but no sooner had two minutes passed, he needed another massage again. My hands felt like they were trying to mold impossible clay, but I kept on, because of the pain and certainty in his eyes. He pronounced that I was a good masseuse. When I doubted him, he nodded. He'd always lower his head and look away when he nodded to me. Sometimes he would close his eyes. Sometimes he would have a bitten piece of pen cover stuck in his mouth. His was a conviction that I could not help but have faith in. If he lied to me, he lied well.

There are so many other things that I remember about him. He played tennis at the same club that I did. He would visit as a child and watch my exotic fish with me in the afternoons after school. He was frank and stood up for what he believed in more than I did. He didn't seem to care much what other people thought of him. But I think he did. A whole lot than many of us, his friends from school, will ever know.

That day when I played masseuse was the time I saw Brad alive. He died seven and a half months later. I never went to visit him. I don't visit sick people. Usually, I can't bear to see them. They make me cry and bawl in front of them. That isn't a good show, especially for someone with cancer. My grandfather died of cancer, and the stories of him sick made me sick when I heard them. That's what Brad had, but his sickness isn't the reason I didn't go to visit him.

Before I knew what it was, I told everyone that eventually I will get around to visiting him, but secretly in my heart I think I felt that I'd wait until he got better. As you may already know, better never did come.

It was at the wake of a dead relative that my eyes were opened to what kept me away. I told my aunt all about Brad. She practically screamed at me for being selfish. I didn't understand at first. Then it hit me that Brad needed my presence and emotional support more than anything. The last seven months of his life that I missed out on was a missed opportunity to get to know him better, appreciate him, life and the frankness he would have thrown my way.

Since then, I've been in one situation where I've had to be in very close quarters with a very sick person. I didn't handle it as well as I would have liked. Thanks to the lessons I've learnt from my experiences with Brad (and the scolding from my aunt), I'm one step closer to being comfortable around those who are in need. I'm one step closer to showering them with the love and support that they deserve.

Allison

*hands everyone some cyber Kleenex*

Read on man. My Writings is next.