Never Forget Travis

I got the call on Monday morning while sitting at my desk at work. I think it was my dad that called me or it could’ve been both of my parents, but I’ve blocked that memory. I know my boss commented about my crying and I told him. Once I had my composure I started making calls myself. The rest of the week is a blur. I remember going into a room that no one was in during one of the viewings so that I could get my composure and my mom coming after me. I told her to leave me alone. I didn’t want to break down then. I’ve shared in other entries about the actual funeral when I did break down. I haven’t shared what we did at the interment service.

At Roselawn, the family and those who came along to support us had our brief service. We had brought balloons with us and had passed them out. I remember Grandma explaining to Margaret about the balloons and how we were going to release them. When we did let them go, one balloon lingered with us while the others took flight. It too finally took off to the sky. We watched them shrink into the distance until we could see them no more.

I went to Roselawn today and brought balloons with me again. I brought some flowers too and put them in the urn. It looked like a bigger bunch while they were tied together, but once I untied them they didn’t really fill the pot. I spent some time there even though I know Travis’ spirit isn’t tied to that spot. His maternal grandparents are buried beside him. I noticed that his Grandma had passed when he was 15, and then his Grandfather when he was 20. I always think of Travis as being two and a half years younger than me, but reading his headstone I was reminded that he was just 26. Before I left, I let the balloons go and watched them float off into the distance again. While one did separate from the group, none lingered with me.

Above you’ll see a photo of us playing with my Mego action figures back in the late 70s.

The last time I saw Travis was fifteen years ago today. I was home for the weekend and he came to my parents house for dinner as we were celebrating my birthday. We hadn’t had a dinner like that for my birthday in ages, and it was nice to just spend time with the family over a meal. Travis gave me a card which I still have. I haven’t looked at it since then, but I know it’s in the box with all the other cards I’ve received. I should dig it out. We didn’t spend that much time alone talking that day. We’d done that a couple weeks earlier on Labor Day. If I had known it was going to be the last time I’d see him, I don’t know that I’d have done anything differently. It was a happy time for the whole family filled with laughter, good food and love.

My Great Aunt is in bad shape. She has been struggling to recover from pneumonia and an infection. This past weekend her sister (my grandma) decided it was time and allowed them to discontinue the IV and they’re only giving her pain control, no fluids or food. I’ve spent time with her the past couple of days, and I can tell that she’s in pain and uncomfortable. It reminds me of when my grandpa was in the hospital dying. He wouldn’t speak to us either, but at least we could tell that he wasn’t in pain.

While going through Alice’s things, I found she had a copy of this photo of Travis and me. You can see Alice on the left in the background, and that’s her brother Jim on the right. He passed already.

I had my chance to get closure with grandpa, and am having it now with Al. With Travis none of us knew the last time we saw him would be the last.

One of the neighbors passed away this week. She lived over the field from here, but her house can’t be seen due to some trees. She has a son that was a year or two ahead of me in school. I didn’t really know her that well myself, but she spoke at my Grandfather’s funeral seven years ago. I learned that my Grandparents used to go camping and fishing with them. Hearing of her death made me think of Travis.

Travis used to go down the road and visit one of the neighbors. I never really understood Trav’s interest in Jack. I used to talk to Jack when he’d show up next door. He rarely got out of his vehicle, and had his little dog in the vehicle with him. I thought he was weird. Travis though would walk the half mile down to Jack’s farm, or sometimes ride a bike. He’d spend hours there.

Travis also used to go to the nursing homes and visit people there. He had a genuine interest in older people. He enjoyed talking to them and spending time with them. He had a gentle caring way in dealing with them.

On a different topic about Travis, he came up in conversation today. Grandma was telling her caregiver about how Travis once told a friend of his that Grandma has salad for every meal. He added that if she thought she could get away with it, she would have it with breakfast too. Grandma always made salads for Travis because she knew he liked them.

Today Travis would have turned 41. Yesterday Grandma and I were talking about him, and how she needed to call his mother today to check in on her. I wonder about his siblings and would drop them a note or call them, but I don’t have their contact information.

I had shared a while back about our mutual love of artichokes. I did go through with buying some for Christmas and prepared them following Grandma’s recipe. Like any family recipe, the measurements were not precise and the ones of top could have used more olive oil though the ones on bottom came out much nicer.

While Travis’ father and I were eating them, Travis’ stepmom commented about how they were one of Travis’ favorites. It was nice to see that she remembered that after all these years. Travis’ half-brother Sammy wouldn’t try one, even though Grandma explained how you eat them. He didn’t have the relationship with Grandma like Travis and I did growing up since he was so much younger and didn’t spend every weekend there.

I’ll definitely make artichokes again and remember Travis while I eat them.

This morning I heard my grandmother discussing Travis and me with one of her caregivers. I wandered into the room and asked what story she was telling. She shared that they had been discussing a book called “Heaven Is For Real”. It’s a book about a 3 year old boy who had emergency surgery and came back with tales from Heaven. It’s a story about unquestioning faith.

Grandma went on to share that when I was six and she taught me about taking Jesus into my heart, I waited for Travis to arrive for his weekly visit. When he arrived I rushed him off into the den closet and told him that I had Jesus in my heart. He asked what He’s doing there. I explained to four year old Travis that He had forgiven my sins and that he had sins that needed forgiven so he needed Jesus in his heart too. I then took him out to Grandma so she could explain it to him.

I only have a brief flash of memory of that day, but over the years since then he and I went to many summer church camps together. We always shared a room, sometimes alone and sometimes with other kids. We’d get in trouble some nights for staying up late. And other times we’d be the stars of the camp.

Grandma said she can’t wait to see Travis again in Heaven. I still see him now and then in my dreams.

I made dinner for Grandma this evening. It was one of her favorites, homemade macaroni and cheese that is baked in the oven. While chatting with my Great Aunt Nancy prior to dinner, the three of us were talking about how my dad as well as my cousin Jason were both very particular eaters.

Grandma started talking about artichokes, and how she would make them for special occasions. We talked about how good they were steamed and stuffed with Italian bread crumbs, though the peppercorn, garlic and lemon version were not as well received.

Grandma recalled that Travis and I both took to eating artichokes right away. She’d usually steam a dozen of them and as soon as Travis and I got there, we would always take one and eat it. Then we’d always have another one when everyone else was eating theirs. Travis would always take one home for his mom to enjoy, though we supposed that he probably would help her eat it.

I’m going to have to make artichokes again the next time they are in season.

The past two days there’s been a lot of press about the suicide of a Rutgers student whose roommate had secretly broadcast him in a sexual encounter with another guy. There’s now talk of trying to get that roommate charged with manslaughter and as a hate crime. I’m not sure I agree with that, but I do feel bad for the student who died and his family who now have to live with that grief.

The family had dinner tonight to recognize Grandma’s birthday since most of us won’t be around on Monday to celebrate it. Afterwards I approached Travis’ dad and asked him how he was doing today. His answer made me think that he didn’t understand what I was asking. I later asked mom if she had talked to her brother about today, and she too had to think for a minute before understanding what I was asking about. It’s been fourteen years and I wonder if others in the family are forgetting, while I know it’s still there for Grandma and me.

While talking to my grandmother today, she informed me of the suicide of the County Treasurer who my grandfather had been friends with. It’s similar to the one I shared recently under another entry of State Treasurer R. Budd Dwyer.

Grandma went on to ask about my role as paramedic and if I’ve had to go on any suicide calls. I shared with her about the 14 year old, and she indicated how hard it must be. I explained to her how while I’m doing my job, my focus in on doing what needs to be done and there isn’t an emotional component to it.

I had wondered about being able to go to a gun related suicide since that’s how Travis had died, but it did not affect me the way that I feared it might.

I feel bad for the Wagner family for what they are now going to go through. With the anniversary of Travis’ suicide coming up, this is a time when my family is always on edge, and this one just helps keep those old wounds fresh.

September 5th-11th is Suicide Prevention Week, and we are reminded that each year, 32,000 friends, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers in the U.S. take their own lives.

Fourteen years ago this month, Travis took his own life. I’d seen him twice during that month. We’d had a nice long talk during the annual Labor Day picnic out on the front porch swing. That swing is still there on what is now my porch, but has remained mostly unused all these years. I should repaint it to match the house and garage. I don’t think anyone has sat in it since then. I know I haven’t.

He also came to my birthday party that month. We didn’t have any private time to talk then, but I know that day was filled with love for everyone there. We were family, and none of us knew that Travis would be gone two weeks later.

It’s one thing when sickness or an accident takes someone from you. You can understand that. You can accept that. When someone takes their own life and leaves no note, no explanation, there’s never any closure. There’s always something lingering out there. You move on, but the questions will never be answered in this life.

Recently a local woman died of cancer. She’d kept her condition from her family. Only her husband knew, and none of her children. Her children are very angry right now, like some of my family was after Travis killed himself. I can understand their anger, but also why she didn’t want people to know. The difference though is that she didn’t choose to take her life, it was taken from her. Travis chose.

If you or someone you know is considering suicide, talk to someone about it. Seek help. There is hope and you can feel happy again. If you need to speak with someone right now call: 1.800.SUICIDE (1.800.784.2433)