Memory is a fucked up thing. You are already slipping away. Our time time together has been reduced to a few moments. Shooting blow darts into your neighbors apartment. Eating acid and standing by a highway. Watching juniors dog play in the water on great mushrooms. Yelling bitchass at random yuppies in seattle. These are things that mean nothing to the general populace but to me they are special times and i am losing them. I want to hold onto you and all that you meant to me. Yet you are fading. What have I forgotten? Calling the hobbit shitter at large. Letting you take a punch from some redneck when you clearly deserved it...you loudmouth motherfucker. Sorry homey when you pull a knife on me threaten to kill me and then proceed to start a fight with a redneck twice your size (i am 165 lbs. at the time) your on your own. I will say i felt bad about your black eye but I also noticed you got alot quieter after that night (a good thing). I need a moment like this to re-calibrate. to re-affix you into my story. Tommorow starts without you, yet yestereday was created with you. I fear that I am not the messenger to convey all that was Brad. How does one teach all that you were. In order to do so I need an encyclopedic mind and in this I fall short. I wanna be able to tell Emily all about you......but I am losing you. I am not choadsephus (you would get that). I do not want you to fade, yet i fight a losing battle. My memory cannot sustain. Random thoughts. Some painful some glorious. Put you on paper. You were meant for more than that. And yet here we stand. I the lone scribe you the fallen warrior. I hope that last high was worth it. I hope you fell asleep better than you ever felt, Cause those you left behind are left with the ramifacations. I am holding onto your ashes...waiting for the right time and place to say goodbye...as though I can. Clinging onto what is left of you as though I am in posession of some part of you. I can not say goodbye. Can not spill you into some pond and think that you are at peace just yet. I want to take you with me(it is selfish I know). When I get to China you will fall there. When I land in Japan I will spread you there. We used to talk about our goals and now you are part of mine. I can not fail to get to the places we talked about for it is my mission to leave a bit of you all over the world. Because frankly the world needs a bit of Brad and I am honored to be the messenger.
Chad"I may be a sap but I am goin to asia and i am takin you with me" hazelwood
Comments
Kris (not verified)
Complete terror
Tue, 08/05/2008 - 8:21amDon't let it happen, don't let it fade. Write it down, put it here, anything. I live in daily terror of anything fading. I look at this site EVERY SINGLE DAY and normally more than once a day. I have pictures of Brad everywhere. Everywhere meaning a photo album in my purse, the desktop of my computer, big ones and little ones in frames on my walls, in the visor and on the dashboard blocking the speedometer, and other places. Do you know why, because the terror of forgetting one detail scares the shit out of me. I dare some moron someday to make a comment about why I have so many pictures of my brother around. I dare some moron someday to tell me it is time to "let go" or "move on". Dumb moron, I am smaller than my brother, but we were very very similar and the unleashed fury is a nasty thing. Move on to what? A life that says I'm fine, I'm better now, I accept he is gone, blah blah blah. I will never be fine, I will never accept, I don't even believe yet, I will never get better! Let me be. I am tired of spending my time worrying that somebody is going to think I am taking to long to "get over it". FUCK YOU. You want me to get over it? Get my brother back here. Otherwise consider this the new me. Chad, please, put it all somewhere. Here, on paper, in a book, anywhere you can. Here is what I am going to do, and maybe this will be good for all of us, I will make a page for stories, just stories. Maybe you have a story, or a funny memory that can be told in three sentences and you want to share it but it really seems silly to put it on the front page of this web site, then put it there. Stories. I have them too, we all do. On Sunday, I was with my son Vinny, and he told me a short story. Out of the blue, while we were riding he (who hasn't even been able to talk about it) said " I remember when I was younger and we went to visit Uncle Brad in St. Louis. He was making us laugh so much. He always told us the funniest stuff, like he said, Brad said he used to work at this place and they had frozen custard there and he would piss in it every day.” But the way Vinny told it was much funnier. Silly little things like that that are not front page things, but they are damn funny. Just you saying the bitchass thing makes me smile. Bitchass? Bitchass at random yuppies is SO Brad. A one sentence story that I will probably think about frequently. I am laughing now actually. How simple and stupid, but I feel like I just found a nugget of gold on the ground. Brad was meant for way more than paper. He was meant for way more that stories we tell. It is so hard to type through tears but I am getting better at it. All of this will be Emily’s treasure box someday. Talk about the variety of information here for her. It is already my treasure box. Also dude, don’t forget that someday, maybe already, Brad’s son will look at this place to learn about the Dad, he will never get to meet. His choice has been taken away and that makes me ill on a daily basis. I have had his picture out for years and years. I hope, without Brad, he still finds us someday. But in any case, the existence of this website is in a letter I sent to his family. They are holding on to letters and stuff for us to give to him when he is ready, meaning when he wants to. He is old enough now. But this place will tell him a lot about Brad, his Dad, and I bet he develops a great understanding of himself. Hopefully Emily gets to meet her brother someday, she would really like that. Around the time of the service she asked us if he(Sam) knew about her? I can’t imagine how that must feel.
Ok, oops, I am rambling. Big surprise. Everyone says, “Oh you won’t forget him” No shit Sherlock, I won’t forget my brother, but I don’t want to forget anything, not one tiny detail. I don’t want him to be my past, the past. Past. That is a painful word. I know me and Pat, at the very least, would read and re-read every single word of every single story. EVERY single story. Do you know how many times I have read that story about Brad drunk in the bathtub and the puke and stuff. Sick to some, but Brad to me. I don’t want to hear a cleaned up prettied up story. That was not my brother. Brad was never prettied up. He was Brad, why the hell do you think we loved him so much. Nothin’ but net, no nonsense. If you don’t want to share it, or maybe can’t( well it’s Brad, there is a lot of that) write it down! Keep it for you at least. My memory is bad, and I mean bad. To have so little childhood memories is miserable. Boy could I use some of them now. Even just a simple little thing like playing outside with him when we were little. I have some, and I’ll probably add them too, but I am making the page. A page for stuff. Memories, one liners, tidbits. Tidbits, that’s it. That is what the tidbits page was originally intended for. I will fix the tidbits page so people could add to it. I actually meant for that from the beginning. This whole site was supposed to be for everyone to add to, not just us. Pictures in the albums, (let me know if you can’t add pictures, I need to put up some instructions/guidelines) controversial crap in the tidbits section, etc. Plus the warning is already up there so anybody can tell whatever they want. Please share away. Anything you want. I will add one, that I just thought of now. Stupid little thing, actually a bit sick to me, but true Brad. No Chad, you are not the messenger to convey all that was Brad, but you can convey the Brad that I did not get to see. The Brad that was you’re best friend. Your wingman. I will share the Brad that is my baby brother. Kate will convey the Brad that was her husband and best friend and her daughters Daddy. My Mom will someday soon convey the Brad that was her son. Heather will convey the Brad that is her uncle, and so on. That is why I wanted this website, that is what I pictured. Bits and pieces form every direction, coming together. I re and reread everything on here. I need this place. I will not let time win. Nobody understands this, but him and I were fused inside. He was part of me in a way I don’t know how to explain. He knew it, I know he felt it. I just wish I would have explained it to him better so he knew the extent of it. I am so tired of wishing. Chad, you better stick around. You loved my brother 100% as much as us. You have Brad in your veins. I would love to see your wedding pictures. I would love to meet the kids you'll have someday.
Wow, like my sister says, if you want 1000 words from me, ask for 10 and hold on!
chad
I absolutely will be around
Tue, 08/05/2008 - 5:37pmThanks for the kind words Kris and I wanted to clarify. Your family's wishes for Brad's ashes being spread at the Botanical Garden will be honored. Phil and Christian and I are really trying to respect the moment, so we are waiting for a time when we all have the time to really do it right. I did not want you to read my post and think any different and was afraid you might. Well I only gotta second so I better go.
Thank you again for this place it has been a wonderful companion
chad
p.s. ix-nay on the talk of ids-kay as I am already having enough trouble keeping Rajbir patient on the subject. She wants em' now I wanna wait 5 years and if she catches wind of your support for her cause I'll have that much more to contend with.
p.s.s. talk away i love to read and love to listen.
Kris (not verified)
Same to you
Thu, 08/07/2008 - 8:03amYour words are treasures to me also. I actually feel that this site is what keeps me afloat. Some might consider it wrong but it is my need. The sickness i deal with on a daily basis needs a pill, and this place is my pill. Every word, every story helps me avoid the loss. The loss I cannot seem to let inside of me. The loss I cannot accept. This is my place to channel what I cannot keep inside of me. The grief, the pain and the misery. I don't really know how to explain it, but I know you understand what brings us here every chance we get. I often wonder what he would think of all of this.
I never once doubted your intentions, and I guarantee I never will. Like I said, I know you love him as much as I do and whatever you feel is right for you and him, is right. I have already found myself jealous of all that you and Brad have, and thankful for all that you and Brad have. I have such a great feeling of relief everytime I read what you write and I continue to see how much he meant to you and how much you meant to him. I wish I had known earlier the bond you shared so I could have talked to him about you. I am really excited about all of the places you will take him. All of the places he will be. I think that is so awesome! Please don't ever feel afraid of what we might think. We don't think like that. But do knw, that one you are in our family, you are in. And Chad, you are so in. Thank you for being you.
Kristin
ps - you can always count on me to talk away
patrick
Don't say "goodbye"
Tue, 08/05/2008 - 8:38pmChad,
What the hell do you do in St.L? I hope you aren't wasting your talents, because anyone able to express themselves like you can is capable of so, so much.
Do what you feel is right with Brad's ashes, but keep some. Even if you don't feel the urge now, keep some. You can never get it back. I know you will get a tattoo that has some of Brad mixed in, but that is not the same. By the way, I would like to share my odd, probably morbid tattoo intent just in case someone else might like it. Brad was found in a certain position. My mom, who certainly saw Brad endure so much misery, said she felt "peace" when she saw him. Those who know the details should be amazed that his mother would look at him in his condition and feel "peace." That is a strong and powerful thing to me. I want to get a silhouette of the position he was in. Maybe that silhouette will be made up of words that were Brad and names of his friends and family, I don't know. I will look at that and always think of peace and as Brad content, kicked back, and relaxed at the end, regardless of the means.
Mom, if I can never express it otherwise, please understand how important your words were to me. "I felt peace." I have told many people that, and, no matter how "in control" I am when I start, I can't say that part without the happiness and relief welling up. Thank you. THANK YOU.
My mom was asking me the whole time she was here if I was ready for some of his ashes. I kept telling her it could wait. I felt like she was expecting the gift to be a momentous occasion, an event of high emotion. I just wanted some of my brother's ashes just in case. I didn't know how I would feel receiving them. I didn't know how I would feel holding them. I didn't want to disappoint my mom with a neutral, "thank you" as she gave them to me. It was almost the 11th hour of her stay in Seattle when she finally gave up asking... she came in the room, handed me a little bottle, and nearly ran out.
I felt nothing for a minute, except feeling like I let my mom down. I tipped the bottle and watched the ash shift. I checked the cap to make sure it was on tight, almost like I was pulling a blanket over Brad's sleeping form to keep him warm and safe. Then I heard a "tink." There must be a chunk of bone in there, because there is a solid piece and it clinks against the bottle as I rotate it. Wow. FUCK. The emotion that washed over me at that moment seemed to come from my toes. This reminds me of one of Brad's bells that he had everywhere. This is all that is left of my brother. This and memories and material possessions and his influence that he will never be proud to know he exerted over me.
I don't know how I will feel 50 years from now, but I want to make sure I can still see something of him and hear something of him ("tink"). Maybe I can say goodbye emotionally, but I want him to have the opportunity to be back in my life and my head.
Don't say "goodbye" Chad, save something so you can always hold him. That can be for you or it can be for him. Once they are gone, we can never get more of his ashes. I've lost him too many times to let this part go.
Kris (not verified)
It's awesome
Thu, 08/07/2008 - 8:15amPat, it's not morbid, it's awesome. We are in for one heck of a fight for a picture, but we will fight. I would hope to just be able to make anybody who wants to see, ready and armed with all the information I feel they should have first. It will change things inside of you, permanently. And I will never advise anybody against it. But, I will be sure I say my peace to someone first so I can feel they can make a good decision for them. It is a one lane highway and once you are on it there are no u turns. None. I have accepted my trip on this road, made peace with it, and no longer wish for a place to turn off. I just need other drivers to be sure of the trip. I hope that makes sense.
Kris
laurapearl
Kris,
Thu, 08/07/2008 - 3:39pmI've been going through layers upon layers of bargaining these past months. Maybe writing them here will put a stop to them, because they're driving me crazy:
If I cry hard enough, he'll come back.
If I never date again, he'll come back.
If I wish really hard, he'll come back.
If I wake up from this nightmare, he'll come back.
I don't know how I'd feel getting some of Brads' ashes. It's almost too much. It's as if it finalizes everything that I don't want to be veridical. It solidifies his end. I'm not strong enough to handle it.
marianne
Perpetual waiting
Thu, 08/07/2008 - 9:38pmThank you all so very much.
I don't have your memories, only those fading childhood moments that Kris talked about.
He wasn't a part of my life, like he was of yours. And although I tried to make him feel welcome, I waited patiently until he was ready. I knew someday he'd be there at Christmas, or to drive by the old house and reminisce or help me toss nieces & nephews around in a lake.
You have what I didn't, and I take great comfort in your sharing words. - And I think I'm learning things about myself that Brad would have taught me. When he was ready.
I'm still waiting.
marianne
The ashes are yours
Thu, 08/07/2008 - 9:48pmChad,
Speaking for myself, I concur with Patrick. That bottle is for you to remember and honor Brad as you think best. I loved the idea of taking him to Asia.