This post was written as a tribute to a wonderful young man who died way too young. I loved him, and I hurt him. I found great joy with him too. For all these many years I have not been able to grieve his loss for many reasons, but I am trying to do this now. Some of what I have written is challenging and it may seem inappropriate as I am married and my life is full and complete. But had Wayne lived, my life would have turned out differently. When someone takes their life, you are left with many emotions: heartache, anger, grief and depression. I had to pack these away in my heart, put a padlock on them and carry them around for 43 years. Last year, 2012, I finally took the chains off and lay them out to heal. And, also, I want him to be remembered. He was a force to be reckoned with in that he was one of the kindest, most sincere and loving people that I ever have known in my life and I will forever miss and grieve him. 8/19/2013
On August 8, 1969, a humid summer night, after dating this wonderful young man, our plans were changed when we got to our friend Beverly’s house. Her parents were out of town so I was spending the night there and he was coming in to hang out but her dad had unexpectedly shown up. So Wayne left in a hurry. I wrote about this initially from a raw painful place and in an emotional way as if it just happened because I had never dealt with it. Now I have.
That evening he kept coming back and riding in front of her house to the wee hours of the morning. We could not go out. But he came over and over. As soon as it was ok, I called his home, around 8:00am, as he had to go to work, so I knew he was up. But his Aunt answered and just started weeping and hung up. Alarmed I called back and his sisters boyfriend told me what had happened, some of which I pieced together years later.
Wayne had had a very emotional break, crying and he started giving away his things, his money to his younger sister. No one could console him. He was just extremely upset. I found out he had spent the day buying a suit to be buried in.
Two weeks prior I had told him I needed some time to be sure we should get married when we graduated in June. I was trying to be honest, it was the end of summer and we spent every single night together and all days that we could. He took it hard. I would see him on the fringe of hang outs watching. But that night when we dated I gave him a letter and told him I was sure and I loved him. He hugged me and put it in his sock, where it remained.
They finally talked him into going somewhere and as they left on the street they lived on, him following in his car, they saw him stop in their rear view and try to back up and turn around. But he backed into a ditch and was stuck. He jumped from the car, walked to a clearing and shot himself dead in the center of his beautiful heart with a 22 rifle. While one rushed to call for help the other tried to resuscitate him. But he died instantly.
The next few days were a blur. Why did he do that? His precious mother asked that over and over through the years, her heart irreparably broken. His siblings were shocked, never the same and while I spent all my time with them up to now, they were lost to me. I free floated alone. Scared, confused. And was never the same to this day.
This page was about the loss of someone no one mentioned, someone great, loving, compassionate and gone. For years I put flowers on his grave for different reasons, I slept on his grave and they had to come find me. I will always carry him in my heart, as I was in his and went with him that night.
So today is August 9, 2023. I miss you Wayne and will always love you. See you soon.
