Posted 9:44 PM by RedSox
The Experiment continues…

Much has happened since I last posted. Funny, though. The more that has been going on, the less I wanted to write about it. As Boogieshoes has covered, we lost a long time Special Olympics athlete and friend his Wednesday. This isn’t the first that we’ve lost. Hopefully, it will be the last. That is unrealistic, I realize given the many types of health problems people with special needs can face, but I can hope. Can’t I?

At first I wasn’t upset. It wasn’t totally unexpected. He had been going downhill quickly and was in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s. We found out Wednesday night at basketball practice. His old housemates were the first to tell me. I pulled Boogieshoes aside so she could hear it from me. When we got home Boogieshoes felt responsible for calling all the old coaches to tell them. I suspect it was as much for her to deal with it as it was for them. We went out at 10:30 P.M. to Bennigan’s in Milford to be with some other coaches who also knew him well. We just felt we had to get out and Lord Baltimore, Guinness, and Sock Momma were all going over there. It was rough because he was special to Lord Baltimore. And Guinness doesn’t handle this stuff well at all. So they hit the 10-year-old Irish whiskey pretty hard. I really didn’t drink. Sock Momma had never met him but she too felt our pain. I apologize to her if she felt like an outsider that night. That was not our intention. I suspect she did because I kind of felt like an outsider. Lord Baltimore and Boogieshoes have been coaches for 15+ years and knew Shawn for that whole time. Their grief was more intense than mine. A simple fact. I only knew him for about 5 years before he became too sick to come anymore.

Thursday the same lot of us, needing each other’s company met up again at “R” Place in Hamden. This was a more laid back affair. Dinner, a couple of drinks, some nice conversation, and then home. So far, I still was handling things OK.

Friday was the memorial service. I was able to get out of work to attend. Afterwards I went back to work. I didn’t do great at the service. But still, I was handling it. I sat down at my desk. Boogieshoes, Lord Baltimore, and Guinness went to the cemetery. I sat at my desk. I tried to call home where Sock Momma was holding down the fort. No answer. I sat at my desk. Alone. And it hit me. Hard. I was waiting for everyone to get back to the house after the cemetery because that was the plan. I needed to talk to someone. They were together I was alone. Boogieshoes called and told me that they were all going to the Playwright in Hamden and hung up before I could talk about what was bothering me. Not her fault but now I didn’t even have the solace of having someone to talk to at home. Everything came crashing in and I had to leave work.

It is so embarrassing now to write this. I do not handle things by breaking down. I keep it together. At all cost. And yet, I get mad at myself for being embarrassed. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to have the same human emotions as everyone else? Why do I have to be the one holding it together? Why the hell should I care that people may think less of me because I cared about someone else and mourn his loss?

Shawn was a special person. Special in the true meaning of the word not some euphemistic characterization. He was a champion hugger. He couldn’t remember your name so everyone was Buddy. He never failed to bring some kind of smile to my face. He would crack me up because every year, without fail, he would persuade anyone with a microphone to let him make a speech. He would stroll up to the mic with a purpose. Take the mic. Turn. Look at the crowd. Completely forget what he wanted to say. And inevitably, all that would come out was “God, bless America!” This would leave a stunned DJ or MC who would quickly have to cover with a “Heeeyyyyy, All right! Let’s hear it for Shawn, everyone!”

Goodbye Shawn. I am going to miss you. I still have a few tears that I need to shed for you, which I will in my own time. But you left me with so many happy memories; I can quickly turn the tears to smiles. A truly special gift. Rest in peace.

Until next time…