The Unacceptable Silence

I stood there quietly, gazing at the words in front of me; the words staring back at me, begging to be read.  I raised my eyes at the crowd that sat in front of me.  Some were intently focused on the sounds that were about to exert themselves from my mouth.  Others in the crowd were helplessly focused on the casket that lay just in front of me.  The moment was at hand to deliver one of the hardest pieces I had ever felt compelled to write in my entire life.

It had been a long and painful struggle for my cousin Randy.  Years of kidney and liver failure had taken its toll on his now fragile body.  Although he had been in the hospital several times before, this stay was eerily different.  Over two months had passed, yet there were little to no signs of improvement.  At the time, there were the hopeful ones around him that kept saying phrases like “The Lord will deliver him again” or “God still has a work for him to do.”  I so wanted to believe these words, but my gut was telling me something different this time.  Sure, he had been in the hospital before and had recovered enough to be released, but this time was different.  This time, while his spirit was still strong, his body was failing fast.  His systems were shutting down and all of the doctor’s efforts were not slowing it down.  To witness one of the single biggest influences in my life slipping away was unnerving to say the least.

I visited with him often during these two months.  Randy was my go-to guy; the big brother I never had; the infinitely understanding friend forever.  He was the first musician that truly shaped the way I play music even to this day.  Of course I visited him during this time, he was part of my family and I loved him dearly.  Looking back though, I think part of me wanted to visit him out of the innate fear that the next visit would be the last time I might see him alive.  Sometimes during those visits we were able to talk and relive some of the great times we spent together; the times we listened to his stereo loud enough to annoy the neighbors; concerts we had rocked out to together; the endless jam sessions we had in church.  All the time, swearing to each other that we would play music together again.  Other times, the only audible sounds were the monotone beeps of the vital monitors and the low level hums of the machines that were keeping him alive.  There were also the visits that I could talk to him but he could only respond with a gentle head motion of yes or no while he feverishly grasped my hand as if to say “Allen, it’s going to be ok.”  Those were the hardest visits.  For a person that was defined by his bold and comforting speech to be silenced by the awful disease that gripped his body, was nearly devastating to witness.  It was in these moments that I made the decision that when the time came, Randy would not go silently.  I had to let someone know just how much this one man meant to me.

Randy truly was one of those few, unique individuals that you meet in life that can never be replaced.  He was such an incredible mentor and an example of a life well lived.  He overcame sever drug and alcohol addictions in his teens to become a loving husband, a tremendous father, a talented musician and an authentic person of faith.  The impact of his life on mine is almost immeasurable.  From giving me a home to stay when I had none to simply being an understanding and kind ear to my own personal struggles.  His presence in my life will remain with me always.

I took a deep breath, collected my thoughts among the mourning, and started to vocalize the pages I had written.  Randy would not go silently today because I made the decision to overcome my own grief and pain by writing his eulogy, according to what he meant to me.  I never thought I would have the strength or courage to write such a final document, much less be able to deliver it to the people that knew him the best.  However, there I stood, experiencing an inner strength that I just could not explain.  That day I was able to take something as simple as words on a page and craft them into something that will forever serve as a lasting memory for a truly extraordinary human being.