So last Saturday I was running an errand for my mom when I saw a flyer for a small Psychic Fair at a book store not far away from where I was. I detoured to check it out. There were various psychics in attendance, most of them reading tarot cards. While I am a believer in many things involving “the unknown” for lack of a better catch all phrase, when interacting with anyone using their “abilities” for profit, I do take it with a grain of salt. After all, there is very little “hard evidence” when it comes to such things and it’s not very hard to manipulate someone into giving you all the information you need to know with just enough details to make them believe.
Having “abilities” myself might give me deeper insight. I also know folks who I definitely feel are the “real deal” when it comes to 6th senses and all that.
It was a pretty good turn out for such a thing and most everyone was busy doing readings of one sort or another. So I was walking back to the front door when I colorful banner caught my eye and an older gentleman sitting behind a table. I asked him, “So what do you do?” and without missing a beat, he said, “Get into trouble whenever I can”. A sense of humor is a bonus is my book. And his banner advertised that he did numerology. I’d been oddly drawn to numerology lately. So I sat down and started chatting with him. He did a small chart for me and was oddly accurate with things that happened in the past. Not specific events mind you, but what he nailed in particular was an era between age 21 – 28. He also mentioned that something life changing happened at age 48 (just so happens to be when Mario made his grand exit) and while I’ve reached a point of calm stability now, the last 4 or so years have been rough”.
There were no “leading questions”, he just did the regular numerology thing of asking your birthdate and name, that’s it. When he was all done, I provided the info to validate what he said. Then we chatted a bit afterwards. In passing, he said he was going to be on a podcast coming up with a woman named Karen Bonofiglio, but that she also wrote a book called, “Whoever Dies First… Wins: Surviving Devastating Trauma and Choosing to Live Again”. In just over a year, this woman lost both of her parents and her husband and struggled daily with wanting to end her own life because of it. The book goes into her struggles and how, while it is incredibly hard, she came to choosing to live again.
And it struck me once again how individualized grief is. As soon as he said the name of the book, “Whoever Dies First … Wins” I’m sure I made kind of a weird face. Because to me, it’s a phrase I would never think of. Winning, to me, is living as well and as long as I possibly can, regardless of what happens in my life. To me, life, with all of its ups and downs, is a precious thing, worth living to the fullest. I’ve never struggled with wanting to live … even at times where I was seriously depressed, the thought of NOT living was something I totally rejected. But the thing I’ve come to realize is, there are many different versions of what “living life to the fullest” is. My version is being as healthy as possible as long as possible.
I think that is why my journey with Mario was extra difficult for me. Watching someone you love slowly destroy the one thing they need to live – their physical body, was the toughest thing. I knew that for him, death truly was a release. It was nonetheless awful. He was the, “Whoever Dies First… Wins” person, not me. Mario’s take on life, while he was living it, was embodied by this old Hunter S. Thompson quote:
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming ‘Wow! What a Ride!'”
He always said he would never make it to 50. Being depressed for decades of his life led him down the path of alcoholism. Which in the end, was a “ride” to be sure, but I don’t think it was the one he envisioned. Mario was indeed, thoroughly used up. But I don’t think he expected to be in the state he was before dying.
At the very end, literally days before his passing, he sat on our couch and said, “this sucks”. Yes, it did. It was not one of those “blaze of glory” type of deaths. He for sure had regrets. A couple decades of alcohol abuse was a really slow way to go. There were so many times where he could have turned around on that path (and lord knows myself and other people in his life who cared about him were always at the ready to help), but he forged ahead year after year.
Seeing what a failing liver will do to a body was not a pretty sight. It was one of the more horrible, “be careful what you wish for” type of scenarios I could imagine. Seriously, would not wish that on anyone and in the end, Mario felt the same. I knew if there was a way to go back in time, he’d probably do it over, but in the end, he accepted his fate.
Knowing he had regrets is one of the main reasons why I don’t mind talking about his alcohol abuse or the way he died. If I could lead anyone off that path, I’ll at least try. And this does take people aback sometimes. It’s another example of how individualized grief is. I will always grieve for Mario (and for what could have been), but I can talk about it, empowered by truly wanting to help other people and by the fact that Mario himself would want to talk about it.
