Why?

My cousin, Rick Newman, died yesterday in Hawaii.  He was 29 and had his whole life ahead of  him.  He was a good looking kid (not a man, to me, but a kid), smart, charismatic with an infectious smile and a great sense of humor.  

Although an autopsy has been performed, the toxicology report won't be back for a few weeks.  His parents suspect alcohol was involved, as Rick has been battling an addiction to alcohol for at least a couple of years.  That was his dark side, a side I never saw, because I didn't have the opportunity to spend much time with him, in person, over the years since he and his family lived in Phoenix and, more recently, Hawaii.  I regret that, now, and I wonder if I could have made a difference in his life if I had established a closer relationship with him.

I've always had a great affinity for Rick and his younger brother, Rob, because of my relationship with their father, Dave Newman.  Dave is my father's younger brother (my uncle) and I've always felt closer to my father through my relationship with Dave.  My heart goes out to Dave, Renee (his wife) and Rob and I wish there was something I could say or do to ease their pain.

My mom, my sister and I traveled to Akron, Ohio, in June 2009 to attend Rick's wedding.  We almost didn't make the trip, but ultimately decided to drive over and we were so glad we did.  It ended up being one of those perfect weekends - the kind you can't plan - they just happen organically.  It was so great to see several members of my dad's side of the family - people we rarely get to see.  For me, as is and was always the case, it was like I had never away from Dave and his sons, Rick and Rob.  We just picked up where we left off the last time I had seen them, giving each other grief, laughing and having fun.

Rick was in phenomenal shape and my enduring memory - one I'll cherish for the rest of my life - was going for a long run with Rick and a friend on a trail along the Cuyahoga River on the morning of the wedding.  Rick fully intended to run me into the ground, but I turned the tables on him and he had to stop and walk by the end of the run.  He was surprised that his "old" cousin, over the age of 40, could outrun him, even though I had warned him to watch out for the "old" guys.  I kidded him about it the rest of the weekend, but I treasured the time we spend together on that long run, just running, talking and running.  It was already a top 20, all time, run for me, and now it's a run I'll remember and treasure forever.

Alcoholism is such an insidious disease.  It's reach, unfortunately, is limitless.  Rich, poor, young, old, it doesn't matter.  And now it's taken Rick, far too soon.

I'm rambling, I know.  It's hard to understand why something like this happens.  The real pain, I think, is in wondering what you could have done differently or what could have happened that might have resulted in a different outcome.  The reality, though, harsh as it is, is that Dave and Renee (and Rob) did everything they could have possibly done for Rick.  He had their support and their love but, in the end, he wasn't able to help himself.  I can't explain it and I can't rationalize what happened.  I sure as hell can't understand why Rick died.  Something like this tests one's faith, no doubt, but all I an do is pray for Rick and pray for Dave, Renee and Rob.

Rick was a good kid - a wonderful kid - who did a lot of living in 29 years.  I only wish he had more time.

Dave, Rick and Rob Newman at Rick's wedding in Akron, Ohio, in June 2009.

  

Plagued

It's late and I'm sitting in my camping chair, on our front porch, underneath the icicle lights we hung today to mark the official beginning of Christmas Season at our house.  It's unseasonably warm, as is has been as of late, but the wind is gusting ahead of rain and colder temperatures set to arrive tomorrow.

This morning, we took J.P. to the doctor.  He's been battling a cough for at least a week.  It's worse at night  and it breaks my heart when he wakes up coughing and crying.  It makes me feel like I'm failing him somehow, because I can't make him feel better.  This morning, early, he looked up at me, crying, and said, "Daddy, why can't stop coughing."  I could hear my heart breaking.  Audibly.

Jude's sick with a cold, too, which doesn't help matters.  I feel terrible for her, too, because she can't really take any medicine (not that she would anyway) since she's pregnant.  I can't imagine anything more uncomfortable than being six months pregnant and having a sore throat and runny nose.  Still, she fights through it because that's just her nature.  Impervious to that which would cause the rest of us to complain.

Our doctor prescribed some cough medicine for J.P., but when we read the fine print on the prescription (warnings, possible side effects, etc.) we got scared and gave him a teaspoon of the over-the-counter cough medicine we've tried before.  I hope he sleeps a little better tonight.

Ever since he started school this fall, it seems like he's had one cold after another.  From what I read, that's normal, as he's exposed to other children (and their germs) on a daily basis.  When he was with our nanny, Carley, every day, he wasn't around other children regularly and, consequently, he never got sick.  Hopefully, he'll build up his immunities and when he starts kindergarten in two or three years, he won't have to deal with this anymore.  That's what I keep telling myself, anyway.

That kind of brings me around to the point of this post.  Three years ago today, my longtime friend, Benton, lost his daughter, Elizabeth, to an insidious disease after a relatively brief two week illness.  Elizabeth was a  senior in high school with her life ahead of her.  She was athletic, smart, funny and extremely popular, just like her father and mother.  She also was an only child.  She was her mother's best friend.  Her death wrecked Benton and Carrie.  They've persevered but I know they're struggling this weekend.

They're in my thoughts and prayers often, but especially this weekend.  Thanksgiving weekend.  My son is sick with a cold and I'm sick with worry.  In the scheme of things, as I think about Benton and Carrie and what they have been through and are going through, my worries seem rather insignificant.

Rest in Peace, Elizabeth, and know you are loved and remembered today and always.

Jude's cousin, Rebecca White, and J.P. at Thanksgiving.

Maddie and Colton (a.k.a. "Cletus") White.

"VU Jane" and "Uncle Johnny"

Two Peas in a Pod

Jude and her cousin, Colleen Blanchard, at the White Family Thanksgiving Dinner (Actually, there are two  peas in Colleen's pod - twins.  One pea in Jude's pod).

Bird Feeders

Jude and J.P. filling up the bird feeders for the first time this year.