I guess I don't mind admitting here that I'm not doing so well. Neither is Jethro. Even though we want to be tough, I don't think that's possible. The type of person Charles was doesn't make that possible.
If I had to describe him succinctly, I'd say he was 1/3 class clown, 1/3 party boy, and 1/3 chick magnet. He was the type of guy everyone wants to come to their party because you know it will be a good time even if someone ends up in the hospital, which happened on more than one occasion. There were some great times -mostly involving fire, Everclear, and someone's leftover prescription of codeine. And maybe a ferret or a squirrel.
I found out Monday night. A friend of mine called and asked if I was driving. I said no. She told me what happened and I started screaming. Jethro knew it was something bad. He also knew the girl who called me was very close to him. He mouthed "Charles?" I nodded. Then his phone rang.
When I came back to my senses, I realized I was pounding on the stairs and yelling no no no no no no over and over. My poor friend was near hysterics herself, so I tried to calm down and apologize. We agreed that we needed to contact as many people as we could so they wouldn't have to hear it on the 10:00 news. As bad as it was, that would have been much much worse.
I found that telling someone is just as horrible as hearing it. If I never have to do that again, it will be too soon.
Jethro and I decided the girl who called me shouldn't be alone, so we left the kids with his parents and went to her place. We were all still in shock. Jeth and I left around 3am, but none of us really slept.
Yesterday was bad. I cried in spurts all day. Jethro came home for lunch and we both started crying. Somehow it is worse knowing that the person you love most in the world is hurting as badly as you are.
People called all day. I cried with every one of them. We met a bunch of friends at a restaurant by our house. Jeth and I had a beer dinner. One girl came that I hadn't spoken to in 8 years because of a falling out. We hugged each other and cried and said we were sorry. Then we laughed because she is practically a midget and her head had nearly disappeared between my boobs. And that was the evening. Tears and laughter.
Jethro and I went home and proceeded to get bombed. Not to brag or anything, but we could be professional mourners.
Jeth eventually passed out and I left a bunch of drunken rambles all over the internet. I think I was even in a chat room.
Charles left us a lot to laugh about. He was one funny motherfucker. His nickname was Asshole - given him by one of the many psycho-chicks he toyed with, and worn by him with something like honor - if that tells you anything. I used to curse him for destroying my left big toe when he forced me to kick him once. Now I'm glad and I hope it never heals.
So now I'm going to get up, wash my face, and and press on. Obviously we are not moving until after the funeral, but we are going to have to move eventually, so I need to get going.
Thank you all so much for your condolences. Your words have been so precious to Jethro and me and we treasure each one of them. Keep Charles's family in your thoughts and prayers this week. He was their only child.