Hockey!!!!!!!

This is my friend, Tony (Photo courtesy of N8). Tony is a good man. He always hugs you hello. He always gives you crap for not liking hockey. He plays drums like Animal-not like an animal, but like the Muppet. He likes High Life. He has lots of nicknames. He grows a huge beard every winter. He helped me move once after a long day of work putting on a roof. When he takes a shot he raises his glass and screams, "HOCKEY!" (And no one knows why, but we always accompany him in this chant). He loves his friends. Tony is a good man.

I will miss Tony.

This Tuesday I was with my sister when she asked me about a friend's status on Facebook. "Kyle lost a friend today, do you know who?"
"Nope. My phones in the car. I'll call him later and make sure he's okay."

I got to my car and had two missed calls from Kyle. SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK SHIT

Suicide. My third friend to leave me this way in the past two years. My fourteenth of my life. You read correctly. Fourteen.

My body, after years of experience with this, jumps right to the final stage of coping. Anger. I have no tolerance for suicide, but of course what good does that do? But I'm mad at you Tony Pancakes. I am mad that you have done this to your friends, mother, and brother. To me. I am mad that we have to go through all this again. And I'm so very mad that you felt like you had nothing more to offer your friends, our neighborhood, your mother, your brother. Me. Tony you are a good man.

And that's why this is so hard. But while I mourn the loss of another friend, I remain hopeful he finally has found peace. I just know that he's sitting at the corner bar in Heaven (I'm optimistic) buying rounds of drinks and raising a glass...

While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet him behind the veil. ~John Taylor

HOCKEYYYYYYYYY!