Your "Alive" story

StupidHumanBeings

So what's your alive story?

My father died when I was 14, he died of an accute anurisim it was fatal but not until he had hours of life to ponder his existance without seeing his wife or son. I went the whole day through school unaware of what was going on as my mom chased his ambulance around town since 10am. I was even home for more than an hour before anyone in my family came to get me. I never got to see him.

Forgive me for the spelling this required a 2 drink minimum. And I never do just the minimum.

Rock on! See you on the tour San Diego! and LA! Say what what the OC! and Laguna Beach (yall know you watch the show!)

xavier mcdaniel

mine's not an alive story like that. but everytime i hear that song, i think of being in the concourse of the world trade center six hours before the first plane hit it.

StupidHumanBeings

Amen to that brother! I went to NYC for the first time last year and seeing ground zero rocked me to the core. I have to go back for the second time this month, I can barely keep it together thinking about people burning alive jumping to their deaths.

egmont

Sorry about your dad, first of all.

I was living in London when my Great Aunt passed in Gibraltar, and I was responsible for delivering the news to my mother who was visiting my sister in New York.

It was running around receiving international calls while helplessly trying to get a hold of my poor mom. But because my mom was in New York having travelled there from Gibraltar, she couldn't travel back there for the funeral (or shiva seating, for that matter).

My mother lost her own mom when she was only six, so my great aunt was the one who raised my mom. One can imagine how hard this must have felt on my mom.

At least they got to say goodbye.

As for me, I felt like an electrical conduit, delivering shocks and shivers while remaining helplessly put. I believe I skipped work the next day.

dissidentbehindthec

I used to train in kung fu and I met this guy there, we always ended up being training partners because we were around the same strength/skill level, so we eventually became pretty good friends. We had a test for our next rank one saturday, said goodbye to eachother as we always did - somewhat hurriedly because we'd be back on monday (in fact, I believe the last thing he said was "see you on monday"). That weekend I remember having a nightmare about a motorcycle accident, which makes this even weirder.

Monday I got to training and everyone was looking at me weird, the place was quiet and no one was really doing anything. My sifu (instructor) pulled me aside and told me that an hour after we parted that saturday, my friend died in a motorcycle accident on the freeway. His mom had nothing but good things to say about us (his training partners), and how he'd considered us his family.

I still get chills thinking about it. It was the first time that the fragility and mortality of the human race actually hit me (I was only like 17 I think). I tried to continue training at the school but it was depressing to always think of that, and shortly after the accident, I suffered an injury while training for an international tournament, and never went back. :( Bah.

Since then, I've seen my puppy get run over and killed by some careless douchbag, watched my aunt die of cancer, lost my grandfather to colon cancer (and never got to say goodbye, I lived over 800miles away and didn't make it in time), lost two friends in car/snowmobile accidents, one to a heart attack (and her husband to suicide after that), as well as lost another relative to an asthema attack. Each one of those could also be considered "Alive" moments, too. I feel lucky to be alive after witnessing so much death, but at the same time I don't think it's fair.

IamMine

My real dad never died...

But I found out my sister's father was NOT my father at age 11.

When mom told me it was somebody else...I was very relieved.

Yet it ruined me for the next 8 years 'cuz I was always daydreaming of my fanasty and perfect dad out there somewhere.

Well I met him at age 19...nothing I imagined.

But....he's lucky that I gave him a 2nd chance 'cuz my kids love him to death.

Without them, he would have NEVER exisited in my life.

You think I was lucky...well, that could go into a heavy debate.

If Eddie's dad never died...he would be writing songs of how he could have been around and being a BETTER dad!

Hands bound

My grandfather passed away in October 2005.

He was taking a vacation with my grandmother to the Ozarks of south Missouri, celebrating that he had just been to the doctor and they gave him a completely clean bill of health.

The day they drove back, he died instantly of a massive heart attack next to my gramma, who was driving the van.

They said he was healthy as a horse. And now he's gone.

I took life for granted, as many of us do. Not anymore. I'm going to live my life for everything it is worth. When I want to do something, I'm going to do it.

I miss him alot, but I know he is watching me and always with me.

If there's one thing I learned, life is short and we often put aside living for work and such. Please don't. Do something YOU want to do everyday, and tell the people you love that you love them as often as possible, because you never know when you're not going to be able to anymore.

benjs

My grandpa died this year... I've seen death before; my papa had a heart failure, my family friend committed suicide, my uncle had cancer. But this was the first time where there was such a clear separation of alive and dead. He became a quadropolegic after a stroke. For me, it's not an "Alive" story, but more of an "I'm Open" story. "He's alive, but feels absolutely nothing, so is he?" It was a blessing that he had such a painless parting.

nataliesmyth

benjs wrote:

, my family friend committed suicide,

If you don't want to answer this don't! I would love to know how someone feels when someone close to them commits suicide. I'm only asking because of part of my alive story is to do with that. Sometimes i feel that i should't be alive and have tried to kill myself.

My grandad died when i was 10 years old, which was the begining of me not wanting to live life. I have to keep thinking about how he wanted me to do really well in things to be a live. I don't know what i would do if his spirit wasn't around me!
I'll have to stop now!

brainofPJ

well it's not really my story but my father's...

he just found out a few years ago that the "mother" who raised him wasn't actually his mother but his aunt...

and the "aunt" was actually his mother...

somebody slipped up with some details and he put it together and then called her over the phone and that's how he learned who is mother was...

i never knew i had another grandma out there...we still refer to her as aunt though

Ms. Haiku

I was having open-heart surgery when I was six, and I remember looking straight ahead through the doors of the operating room as if I was standing higher than the table, and someone was looking back at me. I thought it was my dad.

About 10 years later I asked my dad if he was looking in the operating room, and he said "no." I thank my grandpa for being alive as I think it was him. I think I was at a point of just going off. Also, I thought my grandpa was my dad. I thought at that point I'd rather go back in my body, and hide, than say Hello to my dad because I was scared of him. So, I guess even mean people can keep us alive, eh? If this sounds strange to you, don't worry it sounds strange to me, too.

I have to say, though, that I didn't first notice this image until 10 years after open-heart surgery, and all of a sudden it's in my head. So, who knows, eh? Maybe it was a distortion of what happened when I was a teen, or maybe it's a leftover from when I was six that was stuck somewhere just waiting for the best time to be seen.

Carlos D

I just think about people I know who have had family memebers die and it reminds me of them.

StupidHumanBeings

dissidentbehindthec wrote:

I used to train in kung fu and I met this guy there, we always ended up being training partners because we were around the same strength/skill level, so we eventually became pretty good friends. We had a test for our next rank one saturday, said goodbye to eachother as we always did - somewhat hurriedly because we'd be back on monday (in fact, I believe the last thing he said was "see you on monday"). That weekend I remember having a nightmare about a motorcycle accident, which makes this even weirder.

Monday I got to training and everyone was looking at me weird, the place was quiet and no one was really doing anything. My sifu (instructor) pulled me aside and told me that an hour after we parted that saturday, my friend died in a motorcycle accident on the freeway. His mom had nothing but good things to say about us (his training partners), and how he'd considered us his family.

I still get chills thinking about it. It was the first time that the fragility and mortality of the human race actually hit me (I was only like 17 I think). I tried to continue training at the school but it was depressing to always think of that, and shortly after the accident, I suffered an injury while training for an international tournament, and never went back. :( Bah.

Since then, I've seen my puppy get run over and killed by some careless douchbag, watched my aunt die of cancer, lost my grandfather to colon cancer (and never got to say goodbye, I lived over 800miles away and didn't make it in time), lost two friends in car/snowmobile accidents, one to a heart attack (and her husband to suicide after that), as well as lost another relative to an asthema attack. Each one of those could also be considered "Alive" moments, too. I feel lucky to be alive after witnessing so much death, but at the same time I don't think it's fair.

Amen brother! Why is it that we only realise that life is so unfair when someone close to us dies. I've had my share of sudden deaths in my life, a brother of a fiend of mine (and best friend of another firend) who I only knew breifly shortly thereafter died in a headon collison in a motorcycle acciedent. Jeff, was his name. Jeff left behind a less than year old son, who would never know his father because Jeff decided to go do stunts with another biker (even though he only had started riding a few months prior). Remember people when you have kids, you are no longer your own, take care of your kids and take care of yourself so you can continue to love your kids and they love you back (however "stale" that love may be).

There are HARD lessons in life that I have learned. I have not seen it all but I have seen enough. I wish I could be a better friend to my firends, sometimes I see people walking into bad situations and I can't help them beacuse I don't want to come across as a nagging know it all.

StupidHumanBeings

Hands bound wrote:

My grandfather passed away in October 2005.

He was taking a vacation with my grandmother to the Ozarks of south Missouri, celebrating that he had just been to the doctor and they gave him a completely clean bill of health.

The day they drove back, he died instantly of a massive heart attack next to my gramma, who was driving the van.

They said he was healthy as a horse. And now he's gone.

I took life for granted, as many of us do. Not anymore. I'm going to live my life for everything it is worth. When I want to do something, I'm going to do it.

I miss him alot, but I know he is watching me and always with me.

If there's one thing I learned, life is short and we often put aside living for work and such. Please don't. Do something YOU want to do everyday, and tell the people you love that you love them as often as possible, because you never know when you're not going to be able to anymore.

Dude that's it right there! I've been tripping on Pearl Jam, Weed, Liquor, and Six Feet Under the last 4 months (I'm a professional and I still walk on water at work). Guess I'm lucky... I am remembering myself, where I came from, who I love, and having an incredibly fun time doing it and dreading and crying a bit for not doing this when I was younger. I really like what I'm learning...a bit scary at times. My father died when I was 14 years old in 1993, I am now 27.

I have to deal with my mother next. For those of you who watch Six Feet Under she is totally Ruth. My own mother (in spanish) would cold stop a heated argument and tell me not use the "F" word. In real life I am my own gay brother who moved to seattle (the OC in my case), and troubled in the relationship department, with a sister-ish liberal side (I'm not a flamer) who is writing here now and is nearly perpetually stoned, wrapped into an only child with latin flare.

StupidHumanBeings

nataliesmyth wrote:

If you don't want to answer this don't! I would love to know how someone feels when someone close to them commits suicide. I'm only asking because of part of my alive story is to do with that. Sometimes i feel that i should't be alive and have tried to kill myself.

My grandad died when i was 10 years old, which was the begining of me not wanting to live life. I have to keep thinking about how he wanted me to do really well in things to be a live. I don't know what i would do if his spirit wasn't around me!
I'll have to stop now!

I'm sorry I have to disagree a bit but in cases of suicide you really can't think of how bad you feel for your loss, you must think about yoru loved one who has commited suicide and what they were trying to tell us.... I'm gonna hury I have to get back to Live in The Garden. I feel Baba O'Reilly coming on after this post.... For those of your friends considering suicide (hopefully none of you are, if you are , take this from a friend you may never know please do whatever you *can* even if it means talking to someone here) You may not think so but everyone's life has value. Remember that your TRUE friends will always help you. Be strong to seek them out, they will listen, they will help. I am doing my best to council a friend of mine who's mother did something very terrible to him and his brother when they were young. I can't even write about it, it's so unbeleiveable but soberingly truthful that such horrors exist for children. My friend turned to be the prodigy overacheiver who is so alienated by his experiences that he can't form iterpersonal relatonships and wants to only hold on to life enough to save his 17 year old sister from his mother. He is very difficult to be a friend to, keeps people at arms distance, but one of my best friends regardless. David, my friend is actually the lucky one, his brother, is a drug addict, drug dealer, self-hating jew, neo-nazi, gunfreak borderline terrorist. He wants to kill himself too and perhaps the rest of his family and strangers in the process. You may hate him (I do too because of the fact that he probably will hurt other people). They are both dealing with their pain, one on the inside where he feels dead and the other on the outside, where he wishes to make others feel dead (figuratively and hopefully not literally).

The mother however (who I know very well)...sheesh lady! You can't make up for your the twisted shit you did to your children. Stop lying, admit it to them. She's going to have to face that she has 3 children no matter how tough they act on the verge of self-destruction. I know it's hard but she has to do it if anyone hopes to survive this at least alive and preferably mentally.

Let me paint a picture for all of you. I have been supporting my friend through this while he rebukes me for 7 years. We all live in the idyllic community of Orange County. California...WE! are the real Orange County!

He's finally talking to me, he's cracking around the edges and it's coming down to weather he will pull through or skink. I need to contact his other firends, and it's time to circile the wagons.

OK.... I think I left off at "Around The Bend" or was it Baba O'Reilly shit I'm so lost. Going down for another hit and a Rolling Rock.... Be back soon.

StupidHumanBeings

Carlos D wrote:

It has a lot of meanings to me.One is that I spent most of my teens in my room alone kinda depressed.Then I found God and have loved everyday since.
I also think about people I know who have had family memebers die and it reminds me of them.

Ms. Haiku wrote:

I was having open-heart surgery when I was six, and I remember looking straight ahead through the doors of the operating room as if I was standing higher than the table, and someone was looking back at me. I thought it was my dad.

About 10 years later I asked my dad if he was looking in the operating room, and he said "no." I thank my grandpa for being alive as I think it was him. I think I was at a point of just going off. Also, I thought my grandpa was my dad. I thought at that point I'd rather go back in my body, and hide, than say Hello to my dad because I was scared of him. So, I guess even mean people can keep us alive, eh? If this sounds strange to you, don't worry it sounds strange to me, too.

I have to say, though, that I didn't first notice this image until 10 years after open-heart surgery, and all of a sudden it's in my head. So, who knows, eh? Maybe it was a distortion of what happened when I was a teen, or maybe it's a leftover from when I was six that was stuck somewhere just waiting for the best time to be seen.

I'm happy for those who find religion in any form, truly! (even if it's spirituality thru kinship) My faith in my mother and father re-enforced the acceptance of my father's sudden death. I know he loved me, even though we did not get a chance to speak before his death. It was terrible but his eulogy that I now wish I could give should have said:

"He is not only survived by his wife and son, but by his enduring love for them, his family, and his firends. His enduring love will continue to always be with us so he is with us."

dissidentbehindthec

Ok....I'm originally from massachusetts, but I now live 800 miles away and don't talk to people back home very often. The other day, a friend from highschool instant messeged me out of nowhere (we hadn't talked for years) and told me that a mutual friend of ours from the same highschool just got life in prison for murder. I'm so shocked and confused, what horrible news. It seems like whenever I get to talk to someone from back home, I get news like this :(

Ms. Haiku

When my grandmother was born 95 years ago in Pietraroira Italy, my great-grandfather, Dominic, immigrated to St. Louis, USA to work and save enough money to bring his family over. He left his wife, my great-grandmother Mariana, my great-uncle John, and my grandmother Mary in Italy. My grandmother had never met him. After 8 years he had the money to send them over.

When she got off the train as an 8 year old in St. Louis a stranger was hugging her, and she asked him who he was, and why was he hugging her. He was her father.

weenie

Alive is my fucking theme song.....
I was in a very serious car wreck in the 80's. One of my best friends was driving. I was unconscious but I could hear what the paramedics were saying - that Gary was in bad shape and they needed to get him out first. In a few minutes (or what seemed like a few minutes) a paramedic ran up on my side of the car, grabbed my hand and said "she's dead". Well, I'm hearing everything they're saying and in my own mind I'm thinking - "If this is being dead, this is fucking weird". Another paramedic runs up and does something (I don't remember what) and says no, she's just..blah, blah, blah. Inside my own mind I go " Pheww!" Gary, the driver, had a severed spinal cord and died before they could get him into surgery. For years I felt so much guilt for being "alive" when he died. After I got over the guilt, and I heard "Alive" for the first time, it became my fucking anthem. I still get tears in my eyes when I hear them do it live. After coming so close to death, believe me - I am so alive it hurts sometimes!! Can't wait to hear them do it again at the GORGE!! YEAH!!

Boom The Cat

My life has reflected quite a few Pearl Jam songs. I was picked on alot by my parents (mostly my mother) for being a little dumb, it got as bad as I went over the fields and bashed my head as hard as I could with a rock to try and kill myself (I was 7 then) and then I was found and all I got was being shouted at and stuff, that blew over, I was still getting shouted at, and I cant remember what it was, but I was 10, I was really pissed off and I took every painkiller in the house (which was alot) and went to sleep. I still have no idea why, but for some reason, I woke up 3 hours later with a helluva headache and stomach pains. I should have died, but I dont know why, which is a big part of my faith in god.

weenie

One of the best things in life is having bands like Pearl Jam, and their music, to connect our lives to....wouldn't you agree?