Lucky People Part II: Trent Babcock, One Year Later

Today is Sunday.

It is a holiday here, and fireworks abound.

On or about a year ago Friday, or some such thing, Trent Babcock killed himself.

It hardly feels like a year ago that I wrote “Lucky People”, and yet it has been.

This year, I’m not quite so prolific. On realizing the anniversay, I texted his better half, his twin, my own ‘better half of years gone by’, and I did that not because of any anniversary but because I am, and remain, one of those silly humans who, once they have given their heart to someone may legally yank it back but who will forever keep the feelings where they were to begin with and just find some way to live with that..

I love his better half.

I always have.

I always will.

I have just since then…not last year, but the time before that, when other things fell apart, …found a way to move forward. Beause when, at the end of the day, that is all that is left to you, …that’s what you do.

I’m not so odd, you know, in that.

At the end of the day, we both miss him. I can speak for myself, anyway. I can’t speak for Brent any longer, but I’m willing to wager he misses him, too.

Trent, I’m thinking.

I’m thinking, it’s been one year and I should say something. And yet, at the end of the day, this is it. This is all I can say, and I would think it’s what he would appreciate. As he used to put it when we grocery shopped, in Broomfield, those nights when Brent was working until all hours, just say what you think. Whether it was about the brands of macaroni on aisle five of the Broomfield Safeway or my deepest thoughts about whether or not we ever really went to the moon or it was a Hollywood hoax, there he was. Trent. With his ridiculous car. Standing in the soup aisle. Dawdling over cereal.

Crack me up.

Everything comes to mind, my friend.

These things stand out.

1. My dog used to scratch under his door, about a half hour before he was due to wake up. My dog loved him, and dogs can’t tell time, I know this…but it happened, day after day after day…at always the same time.
2. I used to get far too mad at him because his bathroom was never clean. It was always a serious study in ‘black body hair left behind after a shower’.
3. When his brother was sad, he always found some way to distract him, and make him laugh. This was his gift alone; no one else could do it.
4. When his brother and I fought, he always had the good grace to pretend that he hadn’t noticed.
5. To see if spaghetti is done, toss it at the ceiling. If it sticks, it is.
6. Don’t want to eat the entrée/vegetables? Toss a matchbox car on top of the serving dish
7. Want to make someone’s day? Show up in their parking lot at the end of a work day, their dogs hanging out the windows, and greet them after work with, “the kids just wanted to know where Mommy worked.” Follow you to the grocery store after that and not only help you shop, but help you put stuff away.
8. Be late with the rent but always at the ready with a joke and a smile
9. Ask, “what’s for dinner,” as if there’s supposed to be one.
10. Bother to come over and say hello, before you ship off to Iraq, and say hey to your soon to be ex sister in law. Laugh your ridiculous laugh and be you for what…as it turns out,….is the very last time.

Rest in peace, Uncle Waddy.

So now and always so alive to those of us, four footed and two, who keep you alive still. I guess you could say we’re…

Lucky People.