Remembering the Good and Bad Times

 Remembering David today. He would have been 39. Hard to believe it's been over 10 years since his passing. Remembering his goofyness, his compassion for others even when he was in his deepest days of his mental illness and addictions. Remembering his hugs, his love of God's creation, and how much he taught me about people that are marganalized, (homeless, prisoner, addict....), by society. 

He was gregarious yet anxious about life. He loved adventure and was a bit of a daredevil yet was happy to also lay in a field and watch the stars at night. His favorite book of the Bible was Ecclesiastes. He was fun to be around when Mental illness or addictions weren't getting in the way.  He loved people but had difficulty showing it when he was struggling himself. He looked out for others even when he had little for himself. 

He had the strangest things that he'd ponder or say. One day he said, "If I wasn't real, I'd be real." What does that even mean? He often would say that he always thought his brain worked differently than others even when he was a little kid. Borderline Personality Disorder will do that to you. He was so hard on himself. He knew what to do or not do in life, but for various reasons BPD would gets its way more often then not in the end. Self-medication would follow. It was a vicious cycle that slowly became more BPD and less David. He also had an anxiety disorder and an addictive personality. 

Slowly watching your loved die from mental illness is a hard thing. Oh how you wish they would be one of those that goes into "remission" per say or are able to manage their diagnosis. It just wasn't in the cards for him. And just like when someone you love dies from some other illness that slowly takes everything from them over a very long period of time, there is a sense of relief. There's no more pain for them, and for David there's no more worry that he might harm himself or someone else while getting in a car and being under the influence or other things like that. 

I miss him immensely. One more hug, one more "I love you," one more of his shenanigans, one more seeing the wonder of nature through his eyes, one more time talking about the meaning of life in Ecclesiastes with him, one more seeing him take the last of the money he had and buying groceries for a neighbor, one more...

I will remember all of the good times but I'll also remember the bad times. Some of those bad times were his doing just like anyone that makes bad choices from time to time, but many were mental illness rearing its ugly head. The bad times taught me much about loving God and loving others, even more than the good times. And so, I'll remember all of it until I see him again.