Thanksgiving is a great holiday. It’s the only secular holiday that really gets people together, not just to gorge on irresponsibly large meals, but to come together in the spirit of being thankful. I mean, it’s right in the name. I love the cooking and the process of it. I love sitting with my son as he rattles off what he’s thankful for. It’s the cutest.
And I suppose I’ve got plenty to be grateful for, myself. It’s been a rough few years, but somehow I’ve had a year that went from fine to great to outstanding. It’s like a fugue state, and I intend to do the most possible to keep it that way. At least with what is within my control. But life… well, life just has a way of complicating things.
This past weekend was supposed to be my friend Tito’s wedding. I met him sometime in either 2002 or 2003, I guess. He was loud, eccentric, and hilarious. Dude played guitar kinda well, sang badly, and somehow had a way with women that I personally found confusing. Maybe it was his confidence and bravado. I dunno.
He should be married by now. But as you can probably deduce by the way this is being laid out, that’s not the case. About a month and a half ago I got curious about whether or not he and his bride had a registry, and texted him to ask. While waiting for the text, I decided to search online by name.
Turns out Tito had died about two weeks prior.
A man in his early 40s, with a kid and a fiancee, gone. His fiancee answered from his phone. Massive heart attack. Early 40s. Gone.
Earlier this year, he was the only person to call me to wish me a happy birthday. Everyone texts or messages on socials these days. He wanted to call. He wanted to hear my voice despite not having contact for over a year. Or perhaps because of that. I’ll never really know. And that shit just moved me. This guy would call 2 or 3 times a year to either just say hi or settle some random dispute he had with people instead of going online.
“Hey Vic, what’s the name of that group with the three white women? Two of them were regular sized, but one was big and low-key the finest of the bunch?”
“You mean Wilson Phillips?”
“WILSON PHILLIPS! YES!”
Damn, this is what was considered unattractive in the 90s? She was easily the best looking of the trio. Oh, well.
On he’d go to quickly shuffle me off the phone and end his argument. Then there was the time he asked me to back him up in an argument he had with a girl on the phone as to which members of Cypress Hill were Mexican. This was while he graciously let me spend a few days during my birthday week with him in North Carolina while I quietly was going through an odd depressive spiral back in 2006 or 2007. It felt great to just be around him, to be that welcomed. Even if that sushi spot he took me to absolutely sucked.
You know, part of me wonders if COVID ruining the immune systems of so many people and weakening our bodies overall has a part in all of this. Part of me wonders how this could have been prevented or avoided. And maybe this was just the way it was supposed to go. But that’s hard to accept. Guys my age don’t usually drop dead like this.
I lost two friends this year. My online buddy Derek died near the start of it. I still have the screenshots of the last few texts we exchange and how he was feeling ill. And after he passed, I befriended his sister, who revealed so much about him and what he was like that only made me sadder that we never really got to know each other better or in person. Every photo of him as a kid, he’s there petting or holding some animal. He was a protector, a guy that cared from a very deep and genuine place. But most people didn’t get to see that.
I lost my gig working for what to me was and will always be the best combat sports site on the planet. That’s not on the same scale as the loss of my friends, but it stung after being part of a community we worked hard to build and maintain for a decade. It’s all loss. All the way around.
And I suppose that what makes this all so much more difficult is that I’ve reached the potential realization that maybe my dumb ass doesn’t know how to properly grieve. Whether it’s the dissolution of a friendship, the end of an intimate relationship, the end of a job, or death itself, some of us struggle to process it more than others. Derek should still be here, building computers and fixing literally any device that came across him. Tito should still be here, making people smile, and unabashedly letting them know how much he loves them.
I always tell others to be grateful that you experienced the company of others instead of focusing on how sad you’ll be in their absence. It’s a less selfish way to think, perhaps. But it ain’t easy. I miss these guys, people that were dedicated to keeping our friendship alive despite the distances between us. I feel for their families. I feel for anyone that has to bury their own children, whether they be infants or adults. That’s life, though. No rhyme or reason, I guess.
I wish I could end this with something more positive. I guess we can start with trying to learn to grieve. I’ve been trying to focus on what has actually gone well for me despite the losses, despite the mad state of the world right now. I’m trying to be grateful for the friends I still have, because they’re also genuine. They’re also good. We’ve learned and healed together. And I know we’re gonna need each other more as things go on.
So call your loved ones. Hug your friends. Let them know that you love them. Let them know how grateful you are that they’re in your life. Don’t let that moment slide. Do it with your whole heart. And thank the hands that made your meal.
Mightiest Daddy 
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