Just exactly HOW do you go about summing up someone's life in mere words? And in particular, you. We may have "known" each other since we were 4 years old, but after I moved to Colorado there was a serious disconnect and our communication became a series of dots and dashes. I know you always wanted me to believe in those emails and phone calls that everything was always AOK with you, but it was only after attending your memorial service and talking to your other friends and family that I realized that things had not been at all OK with you for decades.
I also realized the day you called me to say goodbye and told me you were going to go down to your basement and hang yourself and I called the Grove City police department and had them rush over and subsequently take you away to the psych ward for 2 weeks that I was not really "saving" you, just postponing the inevitable. At that point I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be the only remaining member of our dynamic duo.
Our childhood was filled with too many good times to name - swimming at Mount Air, running the neighborhood on Kanawha Ave. on our bikes, staying out past dark on those long summer nights until our parents' calls turned us toward home once again. I know now that those calls must have filled you with a sense of dread at what your drunken dad was going to direct at you next. The sound of him yelling at you night after night that I could hear across our tiny driveway through my open window filled ME with terror; I could only imagine how it must have made you feel.
I have lots of theories about why you started drinking and never stopped - yeah, we all partied through the 70's & 80's and lord knows I did my share of drinking, but for you it took on a life of its own and BECAME your life. It owned you, not the other way around. The easy Theory #1 is that your dad was a drunk, albeit a highly functioning one at the Columbus Dispatch for a zillion years, unlike the lazy, bare-footed, unemployed drunk Dick Mingus who lived directly across the street from us. So maybe it was your destiny, maybe you simply acquired the alcoholic gene and you were pre-dispositioned to drink. You functioned very highly too as an alcoholic, holding down your position at Porter, Wright, Morris & Arthur and then BMW for many years with no one probably knowing the extent - or maybe they just looked the other way and were enablers like so many others in your life I suspect.
Theory #2 - You suffered a traumatic experience or experiences from which you never recovered from. This is the one I find more probable, given some of the vague references to "things that you did" that you alluded to in the months right before you died.
Theories #3, 4, 5 & on & on - You didn't love yourself, you didn't think yourself "good enough" for anything or anyone, your parents didn't love you or nurture you enough, your wife left you and married someone else and took your boys away from you, you couldn't make your love/hate relationship with Heather work, BMW fired you.......whatever it was, the result was the same. You made a conscious choice to drink yourself to death.
On the surface you put forth a wonderful facade to the world - you were extremely funny, gregarious, giving, always ready to help anyone else in need except yourself. That smooth exterior belied the real Kevin that lay beneath - inside you were always so stubborn and angry and railed against any kind of authority or anyone trying to tell you what to do or even to help you. You seemed to look at the world as if it owed you something and if you didn't get it there would be hell to pay, you would show everyone. What you never seemed to realize, however, was that all your malevolence at the world fell back on yourself and the only person you hurt the most was you. Guess you really showed us, huh?
Yeah, I know you hurt others too, disappointed your family, let your boys down - that was evident at your memorial service. While there was indeed a feeling of sadness in the air, there was also a feeling of relief among your parents, your brother, your boys. Sort of a "whew, it's finally over" sort of vibe I picked up on. When your shit of a brother called me to tell me that you were gone, I offered to help with your memorial service. I wanted to put together some sort of digitized Power Point photo presentation of your life and prepare a fine speech in your honor. He demurred, saying it was all taken care of. I sent him a shit ton of pictures from our youth and from your trip out here in '08, and was looking forward to seeing them in all their splendor splashed up on a projection screen the night of your service. Instead, when I arrived that night, there was no such projection presentation and none of my photos were even present. All that represented your life that night were a pathetic smattering of photos thrown on a table. I was disgusted and outraged and wanted to say so, but of course I couldn't disrespect your "family" that way. I regret now that I didn't.
Besides your brother's memorial speech (that talked more about him than you), only 3 other people rose that night to speak of you in a room that must have contained about 100. I was one of them. Again, had I known I would be given a chance to speak, I would have prepared something much longer and eloquent. What I did end up saying that night was nothing what I wanted to, and so now, here, I have my chance.
Kevin, look. Life isn't fair. It's full of pain and suffering and ups and down, laughter and tears. Many times it will suck and sometimes we all feel like throwing in the towel and giving up. But the one thing that I have come to know for sure in my own life is that the good times far outweigh the bad and that the joy and perfect moments I experience make me know that in the end every day we get on this earth is a gift and it is all fucking goddamn worth it. I will always be sad and sorry that it wasn't worth it for you. I will always be angry at whatever pain inside of you was so deep and wide that you couldn't overcome it, couldn't ask for help, couldn't save yourself. I will always hate that I have to live the remainder of my life now without ever hearing the sound of your voice or your laugh again, never receive another call or email from you, never hear you call me "Lizzy B" ever again.
I don't know where you are now. Everyone likes to say after someone has died that "he is in a better place now", but I think that comment is only designed to make those people feel better. I don't know where we go or what happens to us after we pass from this plane - that will only be revealed to each of us as we make our own journey from this physical place we call Earth. Wherever you are though, I hope and pray I get to see you again.
You were worth it to me Kevin. You were good enough for me Kevin. You were a talented and creative painter, human being, father, brother, son, and most of all, friend. I will forever carry you with me and the pain of losing you will never leave me.
Kevin Donovan Smith - March 26, 1963 - November 7, 2010
