If I go, before I’m old
Oh brother of mine,
please don’t forget me
If I go.And if I die, before my time
Sweet sister of mine,
please don’t regret me
If I die.
For those of you that are used to VFMS being a hockey blog, I’m sorry. Today, it’s a personal blog. My seat is in a very dark place and the view fucking sucks. To be honest, I’m actually hesitant to write this at all. If I write about it—it becomes more real. And I don’t want it to be real.
“Bernie is now with God, looking down with his legs hangin’ free.”
One of my closest friends passed away on Wednesday after have surgery for a sudden brain hemorrhage last week. He was in a coma after the surgery and showed some signs of improvement over the next few days, but quickly deteriorated Wednesday afternoon before passing that night.
I expected sorrow. I expected shock. I expected extreme sadness. But I didn’t expect anger. Ever since I’ve heard I’ve been speechless and pissed off. I understand that death is a part of life. I’ve heard it a million times and I’ve watched people have to deal with it. But not him. And sure as hell not now.
"Sittin' on top of the world with your legs hangin' free..."
It’s hard to really explain how great of a person Bernie was. He had something that we would call “The Bernie Smile.” It was a smile so big, so heart-warming, and so infectious that it was absolutely impossible not to share in his joy. Impossible. The best way to explain it is like this: On my very best day, those are the days that I was kind of like Bernie. Every other day, he was the kind of guy I wanted to be when I “grew up.” Great Dad, great husband, and great friend. Great person.
Over the last 13 years, I’ve been able to watch my life mirror his life. He was a few years older than me, and somehow my life ended up just following his. I remember when he pulled me aside after a hockey game to tell me that he was going to marry his girlfriend. I remember his bachelor party when he was the most awkward groom in the history of grooms at bachelor parties. If he had it his way, we would have just stayed at the Dodgers/Angels game and bought tickets for the next day as well. I remember his wedding when I truly realized just how big a Filipino family could be and his brother quoting our favorite song in his Best Man speech. I remember being in Phoenix when he had his first little girl. I remember…
On Friday, I saw exactly what love means—it’s a feeling. I saw an outpouring of love that overrode the hospital’s “2 visitors at a time” rule in the ICU. It’s something that completely took over the ICU waiting room with concerned friends and family. It’s his wife trying to be strong for her friends/family when everyone was there to be strong for her.
When we walked into that ICU room for the first time, I didn’t know what to expect. Whatever I did expect, this wasn’t it. I knew he had undergone brain surgery, but you never can be prepared to see someone you love like that. We were able to give hugs and love to his wife and Mom, then talk to him for a little bit while he fought. She grabbed his iPod and we listened to Lie In Our Graves, and told stories of how much that song means to him. And me.
In 2002, the 4 of us went up to Northern California for a Dave Matthews Band concert at Shoreline Amphitheater. Even though we always had great seats, this night we were unable to get tickets anywhere near the stage. So for once (and the only time in over 100 shows), we sat on the lawn. We got to experience a show together. And when the actually closed with Lie In Our Graves, the 4 of us had one of those “moments” that you never forget in your life. We sang and smiled and laughed… and then we danced away. It was 8 years ago and I still remember like it was yesterday. Apparently, so did Bernie and his wife.
Then I learned another thing about love. It’s running out of the hospital to get outside before everyone sees me cry because I can’t believe what has happened to my friend.
But who the hell am I to be upset? If it’s like this for me—what is it like for his brothers who lost one of their best friends that they grew up with? What is it like for his parents who will have to bury a child? What is it like for his wife who has made plans with him for the rest of their lives. What will it be like for his daughters when they realize there’s a gaping void in their lives that they don’t even know is there yet. Why am I the one that is still here? He’s a better man. He’s a father. Why isn’t he still here? Because I’ll be damned if I know. All I know is that God (or whatever) took the wrong person. Who the fuck am I to be sad because I lost one of my best friends? It’s small and petty and in the grand scheme of what’s going on with his family its nothing—but I still can’t shake this overwhelming feeling.
If you want hockey, here goes. I met him playing hockey 13 years ago. I met his 3 brothers playing hockey. If you ever saw him, he was either wearing a California Golden Bears hat, Islanders hat or Blues hat. I gave him a puck when he was battling for his life in a coma. When I saw him, the first thing I said was that he was starting a playoff beard whether he wanted to or not. In the waiting room, his entire new ice hockey team showed up to pray for him and be there for him. We’re talking about a team HE JUST JOINED. When his brother sent out daily emails to friends and family, I recognized a bunch of old emails because they were from my old hockey teammates. Whenever I wrote something that even MENTIONED Martin Brodeur in passing, I knew that he’d comment the minute he read it with something along the lines of, “That guy is SOO overrated!” It was his thing… and it’s not going to be here anymore. In all honesty, a fitting tribute would have been to write an article about why Martin Brodeur is overrated… but I’m not up for that much thought right now.
When I step into the light
My arms are open wide
When I step into the light
My eyes searching wildly
Would you not like to be
Sitting on top of the world with
Your legs hanging free
Would you not like to be,
Ok, Ok, OKWhen I’m walking by the water
Splish splash me and you takin’ a bath
When I’m walking by the water
Come up the my toes
To my ankles
To y head
To my soul
And I’m blown awayI can’t believe that we would
Lie in our Graves
Wondering if we had
Spent our living days well
I can’t believe that we would
Lie in our graves
Dreaming of things that we
Might have beenWould you not like to be
I can’t believe that you
Would not like to be
Would you not like to be
Ok, ok, ok…
There will be hockey again when I can start writing about it again. Sorry and thanks for indulging me.
Matt Reitz is the Editor-In-Chief here at ViewFromMySeats.com and former NHL Writer for ProHockeyTalk on NBCSports. When he’s not shoving a mic in the face of NHLers or explaining why home teams should wear white, he’s usually trying to figure out what song to play next on his iPod. It’s a never-ending job.
