Letter 10 – The Gathering

 

Hi, bud.

The last thing I wanted was to have a funeral. And I didn’t, not really. At first, I didn’t want to do anything. I was in shock. I couldn’t absorb the fact that you were dead. It still comes up, a little wail in my mind that says, how can this be? Usually followed up by something like, Oh, Garrett. How could this have happened?

To say goodbye. As far as I was concerned, that was a matter for me, my husband and my daughter. I didn’t think beyond that. There was no casket. You were cremated. So why have a funeral? I didn’t want a service for you. To me, it would serve no purpose.

Not long after you died, a couple of days, the mother of one of your friends came by. The first person, I think, to come to our door. Kevin had been telling people, but I only spoke to my mom, my sister, and my brother. And that was enough. Each call was hard. Each one of them picked up the phone expecting to have a normal conversation. To have to wait for that pause after the first hellos, and to push through my agony over what had happened, to be able to tell them, was hard. And to bear witness to them hearing the news, was hard. My beautiful child was gone, and I had to say that to my parents, my brother, and my sister. I don’t remember all the words of any of those conversations, just moments of them. The shock and disbelief and horror in their voices. And the keening tone from my mother and my sister. Mothers.

Of course, word got around your school right away. I’m sure everyone on our block knew what happened, given the ambulance, the police, and the gurney that took you away. So, the mother of your friend came. I’d never met her before, but I knew who her son was. He’d been to our house a few times, ate dinner with us and joked around at the table. I’d liked him.

She told me that some of the kids were wondering if we were going to do anything for Garrett, like hold a celebration of life of some kind that they could attend. I was not initially receptive to this. What kind of celebration was there to be had? He was dead at seventeen, just about to turn eighteen. What was there to celebrate about that? It felt absurd.

She was a brave and generous woman. She told me that Garrett had been there for her at a time when she was going through difficult things, and she had appreciated his presence. She offered to organize something for me, should I change my mind. And a few days later, I did. I realized it might be helpful to give the people who cared about Garrett the chance to be together and to say goodbye. I couldn’t put it together myself, but I could let it happen. I could give my blessing for others to do this, and I would go.

Mostly I wanted to see one person who was there for Garrett until almost the end. A friend of his. Once, when Garrett was hospitalized for an overdose, I looked at some of the texts on his phone. To try to understand what was going on. And I saw you on there, Jonathan. Telling Garrett that he couldn’t come over if he was going to take a certain kind of drug. That you were concerned for him. Many times, I saw your words of concern. And that you weren’t taking whatever it was that Garrett was taking.

I think you were a refuge for him, even when he went ahead and did what you asked him not to do. And I think you were there for him as long as you could be, until you couldn’t be anymore. It was too much, and I don’t think Garrett was anymore the friend you knew, and you had to walk away. But I thank you, I thank you so deeply for being there for as long as you could, and for caring about him, and for trying in your own way to be as helpful as you could. Thank you. I will always wish for you the very best and I hope I see you again one day, just to see that you are doing well and to tell you that I am so very glad.

And Jonathan came, Garrett. He came for you, as did many others. One really young kid was there. I don’t know how he knew you. But he came up and introduced himself and he said, I always thought Garrett was pretty great. I did too, buddy.

The non-funeral. What I called “a gathering.” A gathering of people who cared about you, in one way or another, who wanted the chance to say goodbye. There were some cute moments. Teenagers who stood before the crowd and talked about you in some way. A funny memory – You shouting,“Hope, Hope, watch this! It’s going to be epic!” you shouted in that story. And then she described a tiny little hop you did on your snowboard. That was very you.

Another friend, Solana, described how when she met you, you were so full of energy that she knew she just had to be your friend. And she felt so guilty, because she didn’t take your calls when it was near the end. Twenty times you called her, she said, but she never picked up the phone. I do not blame her, and I wish I could tell her that she doesn’t need to carry that guilt. Because at some point it gets too hard to connect to a person under the influence, and you have to do what’s best for you. I understand that, and I do not blame you, Solana. You did the best you could. You cared for Garrett, and you were his friend for as long as you could be. I wish you the very best, and that you lay down any load you have concerning Garrett. He cared for you, and he wouldn’t want that.

Genevieve was there. She was nervous. And then the most amazing thing happened. Her two best friends showed up, with their parents. What a gift. I will never be able to express my gratitude to those parents who bravely brought their little girls to a gathering for my son. We were in a courtyard, and she and her friends played together while people milled about, before the remembrance part of it. And then they sat with Genevieve while she listened to all of them, and then the parents took her away for a sleepover and time away from all the heaviness, and I will forever be grateful to them for being there when she needed to just be a kid.

What I was also surprised about were the people who came for us, Kevin and me. I was not expecting that. This gathering was for the people who cared about Garrett. But Kevin must have told people about it, and they came, and that was a true gift. And I thank them.