In Friends We Trust

If you read, you will judge.

I took a small vacation to a place that once captivated my life, a far-away land where dreams became reality, where nothing is impossible, and the sun was always shining.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I was back in California for 8 days. The entire time on the West Coast was spent with amazing people, in perfect weather.

A girl I had been friends with for a while back in Madison, Wisconsin ended up picking me up from LAX, after a few minutes of thinking she was lost, she ended up finding me, standing outside the American Airlines terminal around 3:30pm, a good start to my first day in California. If you know anything about this area of the world, you know that 3:30pm means traffic. So, me being a former Californian, I suggested that I drive in rush hour on our way back to Orange County.

In retrospect, 8 days is not nearly enough time back. I hesitate to finish the previous sentence with "home" for a few reasons, but I digress.

fast forward a few days.

The time is now, the place is here, life is changing before my eyes and I'm struggling to keep up with myself. For the past year, I have had an index card hung on my bulletin board right in eyesight that read

"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are"

This was to help me in times of defeat, when I would sit back in my chair and ask myself "What the hell am I doing back here?" You as the reader may or may not be confused with what I am referring to, depending on how well you know me, my life, or how much of this blog you have read, so here's a little back story.

9/21/09 - I move back to Wisconsin after living in California for 2 years, 2 months, and 2 weeks. (I moved to California on 7/7/07) The reason I moved back was to be with my father, who was recently diagnosed with colon cancer, and was about to undergo Chemotherapy and Radiation (Not necessarily one in the same). I may have told you, your brother, or someone you know another reason why I moved back, but when it comes down to it, that was the sole determining reason for me coming back. I would come up with different reasons why I moved back not so I could tell other people something else, but because it was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever had to make, and it was hard for me to face the facts. Now, I will tell you if you ask me why I moved "Because my father was diagnosed with cancer."

Yes, 19 year-old me dropped everything I had loved, everything I had worked for, all the amazing friendships I had created, to be with my father in one of his most enduring hardships someone can go through. Holy shit, looking back on that, I deserve a god damn medal for that act of stupidity. It may have been a dumb choice if you were to look at the pros vs. cons, the here vs. there argument, but it was the choice that I had to make. I'm the type of person who will put my loved ones in front of myself, no matter what it takes.

Because of this, the past few years of my life have been filled with good friends, and nothing more. I'm a giver, and that is often overlooked. My intentions are always the best, and I'm too kind-hearted to not go with the flow. I'm no good at expressing my emotions. Anytime you find me, I'm probably in a seemingly good mood, or in no mood at all. I have yet to narrow down the reason for that, but I'm sure deep down there's an explanation to my nature.

Let's get back on track to what I was saying...

I dropped everything and moved back to Wisconsin, to live in my old room, still painted green, still donning the sports-themed wallpaper put up when I was in elementary school. I couldn't help but feel like I took a huge step backwards in my life, the ultimate move of digression. I hated myself for it, but it was for the 'greater good'.

Fast forward a few months, to March of 2010...

I am attending college, the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater to pass the time. I, being a morning person, tend to wake up at 6am to shower and get ready, and still have enough time to sit and catch up on the news.

(editors note; my palms are sweating and my heartbeat is increasing.)

This day is a little different. I get back from the showers, still in my towel, I check my phone.

6 missed calls.

They are all from my sister, Katy. There is something odd about that, being it is so early in the morning. As I hold my phone in my hand, she calls again, I answer immediately.

"Rocky, you should probably have a seat."

Oh no, it must be my grandfather. He has had lung problems for years, his health has been slowly deteriorating. I have been dreading this phone call.

"Is it grandpa?" I ask and I stumble to sit down on the love-seat in my dorm room.

"No, it's Jeremy. [my oldest brother] He shot himself in the head."

I don't know what to think, my mind draws a blank. I don't know what to say, this is something nobody can prepare for. From that moment, it is all a blur. I remember calling my father, demanding he come pick me up, so I can go to the hospital. Next thing I remember, I'm running into the waiting room, and I see my mother talking to a police officer. I hurl my body into her arms, "They just pronounced him dead." she tells me, I lose it.

I lost all control over any emotions at that moment. My heart sank to the bottom of my shoes. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to think, I didn't know what to do.

All I knew is that I would never see my brother again.

Jeremy was the type of older brother you see in the movies. He was the smartest guy I knew, a semester away from getting an engineering degree, he decided to just work construction. He loved getting his hands dirty, creating things, being a part of a team. He was an amazing athlete, setting records on offense and defense. He was an amazing brother, always having one eye on my sister when they would go out places, whether it's a bar, a sports game, or anywhere of the sort. He was her protector. He was our role model, never yelling at my other brother or myself in a threatening way. He truly loved us with all his heart.

I remember the last conversation I ever had with Jeremy, it was about becoming a bartender, something he had done, something I have always wanted to do. I remember how he ended the call, how he ended every phone call to me.

"See you later brother"

"Talk to you later, little brother."

"Love you, brother."

That's just the type of guy he was. Nice as can be, willing to bend over backwards for anyone in need. If I could ever be half the man that Jeremy was, then that is all I can ask for.

Growing up, you never have to think about this situation. You just believe that you will grow up and be old, wrinkly, having Christmas at a family member's house, drinking coffee and reminiscing of the times we would spend at our Grandparent's house on Lake Somo, or the road trips we would often take for vacation. Sitting around a table, growing older, wiser, with your family.

Now, family gatherings are different. I don't know if they will ever be the same without Jeremy. He always had such a presence wherever we were, striking up conversations with anybody and everybody. For his funeral, everybody came. And when I say everybody, I mean everybody. He wasn't the type of person for someone to say "Jeremy who?" No, whether you knew him as Jeremy, Mo, Morgan, J-Dub, or any other pseudonym, you knew exactly who he was. If you had ever had a conversation with him, you would remember his laugh. A deep belly laugh sure to make anyone in earshot at least chuckle a bit. Always smiling, always being a nice guy, always having an authoritative yet kind presence wherever he went.

Now, he's gone, and my life has never been the same. I still don't know how to answer the question of how many siblings I have, nor do I think I ever will know how.

Even if I don't believe in any type of hierarchical deity, I still know that my brother is there, watching over me, making sure I make the right choices.

It probably isn't that hard to believe, but shortly thereafter, I feel into a deep depression, I didn't know what way was up, I couldn't keep my mind on the task at hand, I couldn't focus, I couldn't concentrate. It was like I was...I don't know. But it was a rough time. I was never happy, I found it hard to maintain friendships, or contact with friends.

Most people who know me probably don't know anything about my brother, how I lost him, or that I even had a brother. I never bring it up in conversation. How would you?

"My brother just bought a new house."
"Oh yeah, well my brother just died."

I'm sure you can imagine how Buzz Killington would feel about that.

If you ask me about it, I'll probably talk about it a bit, but I won't want to go as in-depth as I have tonight, unless you're someone special, and we're alone. I don't like discussing my hardships in front of people, I guess that goes back to my "always upbeat" attitude or some shit, I don't know.

And that all happened during my father's cancer treatments.

Wow, that kind of brought the mood back to an all time low again...shit.

My father's final scorecard

Colon Cancer - 0

Thyroid Cancer - 0

Skin Cancer - 0

Brian Morgan - 1

Which is good news. but now, right when he was wrapping up all of that, my mother calls my brother and I to meet at her and my sister's house to talk.

She now has breast cancer.

fuck.

My family just can't get a break. She ends up going through Chemotherapy and Radiation for that, expecting to lose her hair, which she didn't (there's a bright side to everything).

Then, they end up diagnosing her with thyroid cancer also. So they go forth with treatment for that.

Then, they end up diagnosing her with skin cancer also. So they go forth with treatment for that.

She's kicking that cancer's ass though,

Little known fact, cancer is a whiny, melodramatic bitch.

So now here I sit, back to where my story had initially began, me just arriving back to Wisconsin from California.

After too many days and nights thinking, I have decided that I am going to go back home to California.

It is time for me to live for myself, and do what is best for me. I'm 21 fucking years old, and the past 2 years have been a living hell. It's time to fucking party and let loose.

God damn it, bring on the hot tubs.