On Friday last week, while E was in school, I stayed at home with my Mum and did errands. Two of them entailed calling insurance twice, for two different matters. For the second call, which was more specifically regarding my prescriptions, I made it after I picked up E from school. So while E was outside playing on the lawn (and my Mum came out holding M), I paced around studying the growth of my plants while on hold on the phone. Somewhere during this time, I spotted my neighbour Mike, walking his granddog April, and I waved from afar.
When I was done with the phone call, I glanced at an alert on my phone from KMOV that part of the I-64 East was closed downtown due to a fatal motorcycle accident, mentally shook my head and then put my phone away to continue hanging out with my family outside. It was a nice sunny day, and I was pleased that it seemed like majority of my plants had survived the winter. I was also happy that I had 'adulted' and finished a list of pesky chores that had been outstanding for a while.
That night I tried to go to bed early-ish as usual, but E was up making noise. Her noisemaking, coupled with the need to having to go out and yell at her (too tired and stretched thin for much gentle parenting nowadays unfortunately), made me sleep even later. Just as I came out of the bathroom and was prepared to turn off the lights, my phone lit up with a phone call from Ilse, and immediately my heart quickened. Like most friends, no one calls each other unless an emergency, or something bad has happened.
I picked up the phone and Ilse told me Randy, our friend Jennifer's ex-husband, had passed away earlier in the day. On a motorcycle accident, on the highway. And I knew right away it was the news alert I had seen at 4pm. We were all in shock. Randy had just taken care of his son, A, for a week. Ilse and her husband Moises had hung out with him while Austin had a playdate with Leo. Ilse and I had been texted about how it had been for her hanging out with Randy, and we were all happy that he seemed to have been getting his shit together to be a good Dad to Austin. And now a week later, Randy was no more.
It's a very strange thing to be mourning the sudden, violent death of a friend's ex-husband. I had a (sort of) front seat to all the self-destructive behaviour that led to the split up between him and Jennifer. He was a huge mess, and I was pissed at his behaviour and its negative impact on Jennifer and A. I was also annoyed that Jennifer seemed to be taking it and enabling him, because she (understandably) did not want her family to be broken up. And this was complicated because on a personal level, self-destructive behaviour aside, Randy was the kind of person that Jon and I get along well with. Our biggest memory with him is watching meme videos (specifically Cat Vibing to Home Depot song) together after Christmas Dinner in 2020. At the same time he seemed on the mend, and of course Jennifer and A loved him dearly. Humans always have a chance to reform and turn things around, and it seemed like he was.
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As a bystander and somewhat participant, I feel a bit like Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby, watching things at they unfolded before me. It all started last year with the motorcycle. In the latest iteration of a round of self-sabotaging behaviour (and to be fair, the only one I experienced), Randy decided to spend the money that they had saved for the down payment of a house on a motorcycle.
More terrible behaviour soon followed, and I heard about it all as the marriage became more unsalvagable with every new thing. As Jennifer prepared to leave, Randy managed to fall off his newly purchased motorcycle and hurt himself slightly. We shook our heads and said that motorcycle would be the death of him. I told Lynne and Mike about it, because I hang out with Lynne and we frequently commiserate about things. Mike (which I why I mentioned him early), said something pithy about how dangerous motorcycles are, something along the lines of hoping he had good life insurance, which made me laugh at the time.
Memorial Day weekend 2021, Jennifer and Austin drove with another friend of her's and a U-Haul trailer to Houston. I had made a big pile of cookies, per her request, for the trip. It was a mixture of chocolate chip cookies and double chocolate mint chip cookies.
Finally, the accident which happened last Friday, now brings the whole story full circle. That motorcycle, really was the undoing of Randy. While on the I-64 by the Busch stadium, he hit a trailer being pulled by a truck and was flung off his motorcycle. I can only hope that he did not suffer.
It probably speaks to how long my brain has atrophied as a stay at home mother that I cannot remember the exact literary device to describe the role of the motorcycle in all of this. And I cannot help but also wonder is it insensitive to even think about such a real human tragedy in literary terms.
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Right after I got the call from Ilse, I left the bedroom and went downstairs to tell Jon. As we ran through different gamuts of emotions (mine undoubtedly containing a lot more shock and anger), we had a shot of whiskey. It was my first drink in more than a year. That night, both Jon and I slept terribly. It's hard for me to elucidate on quite how numb and how complicated all my emotions felt that night. 72 hours has elapsed since I received that call, and the constant thoughts and worrying about all 3 of the has finally receded into a dull worry.
The worst thing about any human tragedy like this is always the impact on the loved ones that have been left behind.
