Saturday wasn't so great, after all

I got a call a few hours ago that was one I never expected. Instantly I recognized the voice: the father of my best friend growing up, since we were about 4 or 5 years old. We were absolutely inseparable as kids, beat the hell out of each other, gave each other stitches, grew up, and made plans together. His name: Alan Garrision. We were born 4 days apart.

Saturday, his parents came home to find him no more of this world. (It's just too hard to type the other word) The news hit me like a ton of bricks; I have lost touch with basicly everyone from my childhood, and have only ran into one person from High School a couple of years ago. I always figured that "one day" I would give Alan a call and somehow make plans to meet up with him, and for us to become close friends again. We weren't identical, but we understood each other, and always had something to talk about, always able to have fun.

The last time I saw him, we went to a White Zombie concert together. We both had a blast, and I wished at the time (and now more than ever) we could have hung out more. But he had to work, and I didn't, so our schedules didn't mesh. The last time we talked was in about 1999; I was trying to grasp at something in my life with roots. My mom had just died a few months before and I was pretty hollow. We didn't get a chance to talk that night, and I probably moved shortly afterwards, changing phone numbers.

I thought about him the other day, and thought, "I should really call Alan up, and see if he wants to talk." Every birthday I thought about him, since his was so close to mine. Every time I see the cover of the original Candlebox album, I think of him, since the singer looks a lot like him in that photo. Rollerskating reminds me of him, since we used to go all the time as kids. And seeing children riding bicycles takes me back to when we were little and rode around the neighborhood all day.

I will continue to do all of those.

The doctors still aren't sure what caused it. I will remain in contact with his parents to find out, and also to just stay in touch. Very few childhood memories are completely without reference to Alan and his parents. I'm going to miss him. He was a good man, and would give you the shirt off his back. He once got a speeding ticket trying to get me to a remote military base in time so I could schedule a shipment of my stuff so my mom could sell our family house. And, through thick and thin, he loved his parents.

God speed, Alan. Love you, bro.