1-27-04 - Chien's Guest Column
1-25-04 - Bed Buddy Thoughts
1-15-04 - Date Application Page
1-12-04 - The Wager, Part 2 (Now w/ pics)
1-9-04 - Thoughts
1-7-04 - The Wager
1-6-04 - New Year's in NOLA, Vol. 2
Archives
Ever since the end of the year, I have been trying to write some form of a year-in-review column. Generally, this is my favorite type of columns to write...I get to rehash old memories and take lots of cheap shots without having to tie it into some underlying narrative. I started this column on multiple occasions, but I have not been able to write more than a few lines. The fact is, I don't really want to remember 2003. Without question, it was the worst year of my life. All year I drifted aimlessly from one thing to another without ever finding a direction...I have a fear I may be in that boat for a while longer. Much more tragically, I'll remember 2003 as the year I lost my innocence. Within a six month period, I lost two of my grandparents and one of my good friends. If you even have done a cursory reading of my columns from the last year, you can tell that it wasn't all bad time...I had numerous fun experiences and came out with a lot of ridiculous stories. When I think about 2003, though, I still can't look at the bigger picture. All I remember is hurt...loss...death. Instead of doing the typical year-in-review column, I know you will understand when I tell you a little about some of what I lost this past year instead.
Glenn Goodrich - I attended my grandfather's funeral a year and a day ago. Since I was named after him, it was an incredibly surreal experience. Imagine seeing your name in an obituary, on the
1) "Stop Dat" - Dizzee Rascal
2) "Round the Globe" - Nappy Roots
3) "Bad Detective"- The New York Dolls
4) "Radio" - Teenage Fanclub
5) "What to Do" - Ok Go
6) "My Funny Valentine"- Billie Holiday
7) "Wasted & Ready" - Ben Kweller
8) "Nitemare Hippy Girl" - Beck
9) "We Own Everything"- Panic in Detroit
10) "Boys in the Band - The Libertines
My grandfather lived an extraordinary life. He was both a war hero and a very successful real estate developer before being elected to the Nebraska State Senate in 1970. During his twenty years as a Senator, he served his district with pride and distinction. More than any other issue, my grandfather was a champion of the power of education to help people rise out of poverty. With that in mind, he pushed a bill through the Nebraska Unicameral that provided scholarship money for high-achieving, low-income students to attend the University of Nebraska-Omaha. The highly successful Goodrich Scholarship Program has helped nearly 900 students graduate from college (including three of my friends from high school).
My grandfather was my hero. I'm not sure that he ever knew that. Over the last six years of my life, I enjoyed nothing more than listening to him tell stories. They weren't the typical moral lessons that one might normally impart to a grandson...more often his stories involved backroom political deals, election manipulating, poker games with Bob Devaney and Warren Buffett, and, once, the story of how he and the governor helped a buddy of their get out of prison. The fact that his friend's crime was manslaughter did not seem to trouble my grandfather.
At the funeral, I kept myself together until it was time for the final viewing. As I got up to stand I felt my legs get weak. I looked over and saw my sister crying and my heart broke...I looked up and saw my dad crying. My dad is a man who rarely shows emotion...seeing him like this was very hard. I could feel the tears welling up inside me as I went to look and my grandfather for one last time. Once I did...and had to turn around and walk away forever...I broke down in a way that I never have before or since. I started crying so hard that I couldn't see. My legs grew weak under me and I only managed to stay up because someone was hugging me. Saying goodbye is very hard for me...never more so, than when it was to the man I idolized.
Gaynelle Goodrich - My grandmother died less than six weeks after her husband. It wasn't as sudden or unexpected...my grandmother had been sick for nearly ten years and I knew that every time I saw her might be the last. Her death provoked in me a feeling that I could barely understand and definitely didn't like: Apathy.
My grandmother was also a very accomplished woman...she was a homemaker for most of her life and also was elected to the Omaha School Board. She was always very generous with me, but I can't say that we always got along. I think that she was selfish in the way that she treated certain members of my family. I loved her, but I can't say I always liked her.
I wanted to feel more when I went to her funeral...I did hurt for my dad and the rest of my family, but most of the pain that came from that weekend was that it reinforced the pain that I felt from my grandfather's death. In a way, I still wish that I felt more. But I can't change the fact that I don't.
Nick Reinhart - The small piece I wrote after Nick's death is still my favorite thing that I have ever written. Even though I have since questioned how correct I was, but I still feel that what I wrote is much more honest than what I usually produce.
On the morning of New Year's Day, Luke and I went out to get some coffee. Along the way, we started talking about to cathartic it was to finally see 2004. Listening to Luke, I began to realize how much more he had been through in some ways. Not only were he and Nick closer, but he had to live with it every day. Since he lived with Nick, he had no way of pretending it was not real. They had shared the same space...they had many memories in the apartment that he and Kevin had to continue to live in. Luke and Kevin had to face the reality of the situation every single day.
Since I live in a different city, Nick's death isn't real to me. Not seeing him for seven months would be strange, but it wouldn't have been unthinkable. Even though I went to his viewing and two memorial services, I still can't shake the feeling that I will be playing Hoop-it-up with him in two months. Since I wasn't seeing him very often when he died, it isn't yet real for me...I don't know if it will be next month, next year, or even next decade.
Matty - I know that it may be strange to list the death of my hamster in the same column that I am talking about the deaths of three very important people in my life. But when she died, it affected me a way that I couldn't have imagined. Losing a pet is always hard...I'm definitely the type of person that tends to get attached. Matty was especially difficult for two reasons.
First, she was a constant during a very difficult period in my life. Kiley and I shared her in college and I took over all care for her after graduation. She provided for me a sense of comfort through break-ups, numerous jobs, and too many funerals. The first thing I did every time I came home for a year and a half was go check on her. She was always a wonderful, well-behaved little creature.
What made her death the most difficult, though, was the way it happened. Matty went from completely healthy to very sick in a short period of time. After she got sick, I tried to provide her with as much comfort as possible. Unfortunately, nothing I did was quite enough. She slowly died over a two week period. I felt helpless watching this once vibrant creature slowing wilt away. The day she died, I could tell that things were really getting bad. There was little I could do, but I knew I didn't want to let her die alone. I gathered her up in the softest blanket I could find and cradled her in my hands. I held her like that for a couple of hours, before I watched her take one last big breath. She died in my hands.
It may be hard for some people to understand, but I really loved that hamster. I was relieved when her suffering was over, but I still really miss her. Every time I come home, I instinctively still walk over to where her cage was in my room. Only nothing is there.