As I was driving to Tampa today, to help a pirate I call my brother celebrate his retirement from the Tampa PD after 25 years with a charity fundraiser for COPS, I received a text from another pirate I also call a brother with whom I share a business with. A friend and former pirate from our krewe, that we had kept in touch with who had been providing services for our business, passed away.

We took some time when I arrived at his house to talk about our former pirate and friend, and I’d like to write out some thoughts – more for me than anyone else.

When his marriage ended, he found himself in a very dark place. Shame, Denial, Frustration, Confusion, Sadness, Loneliness and Hopelessness.

He began drinking — quite heavily. Now, I should point out that for a Gasparilla pirate, that’s a normal thing, but this was not normal. This was not for a parade; not for a party; not for a social event. His drinking became a nightly search for hope in the bottom of a bottle and ended each evening with an even more overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. With each drink, his hope was to hurt less. But with each drink, the less brightness he saw, so he drank more and more searching for peace.

This has gone on for a few years now. Some days better than others. Several people worked to provide him support, get him help, but nothing could remove the darkness he felt encapsulating him.

Ten days ago, he ended up in the hospital with some internal issues and bleeding. He died on the table, but they brought him back and he was in ICU. It was a very surreal situation.

A few days after, he was moved out of ICU into a standard room and sounded better. I was told he seemed content and at peace, that he was jovial on the phone, and hopeful. There was talk about the upcoming weeks and plans to meet when he returned to the Tampa area.

On Friday, more complications ensued with some apparently severe internal bleeding. During the emergency surgery that ensued, he passed away.

For all practical purposes, he drank himself to death.

Throughout the discussions today, there were some moments and thoughts that really sat with me.

A lot of his life bears an eerie resemblance to mine, especially as it regards to habits, vices, and relationship history – especially while I was in the Tampa Bay Area.

  • His birthday was coming up at the beginning of December. He was 43. A mere one year and thirty-seven days older than I am.
  • He was creative, funny, odd, unique, and highly intelligent, with a technical background in computer software.
  • He loved horror movies, Halloween, and making people smile. I can not ever remember a parade where he wasn’t happy, and doing his best to bring joy to everyone.
  • With all that being said, there was always this subtle sadness that seemed to emanate from within him.

Perhaps for the week prior to his death, he was at peace with his demons and was no longer haunted by the darkness that had shrouded him. Perhaps he was at peace because, perhaps after his first death 10 days prior, he knew the pain was going to stop soon. I don’t claim to know. To be honest, I’m not sure I want to know.

What I do know was that at the fundraiser this evening, he was not far from the thoughts of several of pirates in attendance.

As I drove back home this evening, I thought about all the lost moments within people’s lives. Opportunities for some kind words, compassion, understanding, an offering of help, a warm hug, a gentle touch, a soft smile.

Opportunities that are taken for granted won’t always exist.

I’m just as guilty as anybody on the planet, and if I’m honest, usually more so. After all, by human nature, most of us are just selfish fucks.

As for me, I don’t know what the next thirteen months will bring until I turn 44, or how many of those days may or may not come to pass, but, selfish as it may be, there are some things I must do.