"Parents today want to take all the pain, all the heartache and all the sadness out of their kids' lives. All the things that make you a better person, a better coach, a better teacher - all the things that are so much the fabric of life. I'm so much better for every loss I've had." - Rick Majerus
Yes...and I'm guilty of that as a parent. Why? Because you've experienced some of those pains, heartaches, and sadnesses. The last thing you want for your kids is to live through your past experiences. Especially the ones that weren't so happy.
My class was always a pretty tight one because I think we all had a lot in common. While the 90s were ideal to grow up in, it was not all viewed through rose-colored glasses. Much of the reason that I've started writing this blog is to pay homage to the songs that got me through those tough times. The songs that raised me. As an adult, you look back on your adolescence and you are grateful for the highs and the lows. You are grateful for the experiences you had. The fear, the rejection, the depression, but you also remember the victories, the acceptance, and the laughter. Music certainly was (and still is) my ibuprofen. I often would comment to my students when I taught high school that the most important thing you learn about in college is - yourself.
It's hard for me to believe that I've been out of high school for 17 years. Some memories seem like yesterday, while I struggle to remember others. Maybe it's selective memory :). Like many classes, we've all grown older and apart. Social media certainly helps, but it is crazy to think that I haven't seen some friends for over a decade. As I look back at our high school experience, we were never really heralded as the "best" in anything. We didn't really draw any attention (either good or bad). We were just kind of there - under the radar. In my eyes, that is certainly not a bad thing. We had a class full of talented, smart kids. As we prepared to leave high school, we all started to branch out on our own paths. It happens everywhere and is a part of graduation quickly approaching on the horizon. Athletics weren't nearly as dominant in our lives and classmates had jobs, serious relationships, or new hobbies to occupy their time. The line that you hear often during this time is, "I can't wait to get out of here."
Then time just gets lost and your eyes are forward and focused on the future. You're making plans for August and what university/college you'll be attending. All of the things that were a big deal to you in years' prior now seem insignificant. Then something comes along that makes time come to a screeching halt. A moment that just seems to sum it all up. That halt for my class came in the form of a classmate dying. Dying unexpectedly. I remember it like yesterday. Brad was a friend of mine, not close, but a friend. I had known him since elementary school. He was charismatic, goofy, and the life of the party. He was here one day and then just - gone. This all happened on the last day of our senior year. I remember gathering for our class campout and someone mentioning that Brad was in a horrible accident and had to be lifelined. At the time, you think nothing of it, he'll be fine and in the care of physicians. But then you hear that he didn't make it. Bam! It hits you like a ton of bricks. His mother had been in a serious car accident earlier in the year and was in a coma and later passed. Just an awful time for his family. Rather than celebrating our graduation and accomplishments - we were mourning the loss of a classmate. You're reminded that you're not so invincible and nothing is guaranteed. I remember reading an article in a Rolling Stone in college where Dave Matthews talked about a similar experience while writing the song So Damn Lucky. "Well I've been in a few car wrecks. I think five - one or two serious - before I ever drove a car. I was growing up in South Africa at a time when the youth was reckless, irreverent and excited knowing that the future of the country was uncertain. I'm familiar with that feeling of silence that comes with a very imminent catastrophe"
At the time of Brad's death, I remember that silence that Dave mentions and one song in particular. That song is Weezer's Say It Ain't So. It's a personal, cathartic song for Rivers Cuomo and one that is full of pain. A spite song you could say. Every time I hear that song I think of my time in high school and how it all culminated. Brad's death brought us all together one last time, but signified us all moving on in different directions. That song can come on anytime, anywhere and I immediately think of how one of the happiest times of our lives immediately turned into one of the saddest. The lyrics to Say It Ain't So cause me to reflect on where I've been. They also remind me that something good always comes out of something bad. Looking back I'm grateful for the pain, the losses, and the valleys. They certainly made me a better person.
R.I.P Brad
