Category Archives: death

Famous people who died at 27

– Kurt Cobain – Lead singer of Nirvana
– Jim Morrison – Lead singer of The Doors
– Janis Joplin -Musician
– Jimi Hendrix – Musician
– Jonathan Brandis – Actor
The Elephant Man – Side show performer
I just turned 27 two days ago. It’s an odd age. You’re officially in your late 20’s. There aren’t really any other mile stones anymore until 65. You’re old enough to enlist in the army. You’re old enough to drink in bars. You’re old enough to rent a car. So really, all you’re waiting for now is to turn 65 so that you can start collecting social security.
I don’t really feel that much older. In fact, I still feel super young, and lost, and vulnerable. I thought I’d be well into a full time career by now when in reality, I think I’m just beginning again.
Where do I go from here? Am I too old to just drop everything and travel now? Should my priorities start changing?  Am I going to start feeling a pit in my gut everytime I walk past a Baby Gap?
I don’t know. Life is so weird and great and unexpected. It’s scary and it sucks and I’m still learning to take its punches like a champ.
I got a new apartment in the city. I’m officially out of my parents’ house again though I hardly feel like I’m leaving the nest for a second time.
I don’t think I quite know how to build my own yet…

Goodbyes are never easy

Have you ever spent an entire afternoon in an airport terminal watching people? Of course you haven’t. But if you ever were to, you’d notice the emotion, raw as a nerve ending, radiating off of the people saying goodbye to their loved ones.

Goodbyes are never easy. Back in late April, I lost a very, very dear friend of mine. I had known him for six years and even though we didn’t talk on a daily basis, he was one of the lights of my life. He lived two hours away and about every other month or so we’d get together over drinks and share stories of heartbreak, courage, and the day-to-day grind of living. 

He passed away in his sleep. The news hit me like a one-two punch straight in the gut. My legs buckled and my world suddenly became terribly blurry and confusing. He was young, only a couple of years older than me. He had been overflowing with life and energy and things to say the last time I had seen him, so why now? What had happened? 

I was in denial about his death for a couple of weeks. I’d find myself calling his phone and sending him texts, hoping that he’d answer. I stalked his Facebook page, and despite the countless number of “We miss you” and “Goodbye” comments, I was sure that he was still somewhere to be found.

The ghosts of our loved ones no longer haunt rickety old staircases and graveyards. They do not come as gusts of wind in the middle of the night. Instead, they come to us in the form of JPEGS and words typed out onto a computer screen long before they died. The blogs and Facebook pages of the deceased are sometimes still available on the Internet long after that person’s life has ended. Those of us left behind can drive ourselves insane pouring over the pictures and words of the people we miss so, so dearly. And sometimes, we can convince ourselves that they are still there, behind their monitor, right on the verge of answering our email or “liking” our status.

I still have my friend’s cell number saved in my phone. Just last week I sent him yet another text, hoping that somehow, his ghost would read it.

Goodnight, Thriller

michael_jackson_7Two entirely different generations were utterly crushed last night by the tragic deaths of both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. These two people were epic icons in pop culture and almost like American royalty. They set the standards for future movie stars and musicians, and entered every teenager’s bedroom through either the television or radio.

Last night, after the news of Jackson’s death, a group of friends and I got drunk on a rooftop listening to Thriller on vinyl. It wasn’t the classiest of tributes to make to a pop legend, but at the time, it was the only way we knew how. My one friend, more so than the others, was absolutely crushed. He wouldn’t talk to any of us and had already made plans to call out of work the next day, devoting all of his time to designing a silkscreen t-shirt  as a way of paying homage to his hero. 

When I heard the news, I likened the feelings I got to the emotions I felt when I got my first real taste of death at the age of five. The family dog, Tristie, had been put-down and as a child of that age, the magnitude of the situation did not fully absorb into my heart or head. It didn’t feel real because at five years old, I could not yet comprehend death. 

I feel the same way about this loss. It is still sinking in through my skin. I cannot fathom nor can I understand the effect it is going to have on the world. All I know, is that last night, on that rooftop, under a summer moon, all I wanted to do was listen to Billie Jean and dance.