Yesterday morning, I woke up to an email to the guild’s raid team that simply said our friend and guildmate wouldn’t be raiding with us tonight. Nothing more. Nothing less. Didn’t think much of it at the time because people need to duck out all the time due to life responsibilities and whatnot. But, it did strike me as odd that the email came from my husband, The Orc, rather than our friend.
Our friend is vocal, straightforward, self-deprecatingly funny, and doesn’t hesitate to communicate about anything, especially things Warcraft related. For him to pass along the message through another person is out of character for him. When I asked The Orc later on after work, he had few answers, too, as our friend had not disclosed any details— only that he “couldn’t explain now.”
That’s when all of the warning klaxons went off in my head. Something was terribly wrong. I thought immediately of his wife and little boy. My mind rushed to worst-case scenarios, praying all the while that our friend and his family were okay. After the dinner rush had subsided and kids were in bed, I got to my computer ASAP and sent our friend a quick email. “Just saying hi. Hope you and everyone over there are alright. We miss you and we’re thinking about you. Big internet hugs!!”
I didn’t raid very well last night. In fact, it didn’t seem like anyone did. We wiped on bosses we had on farm. We even wiped on trash. Sure, we laughed about it but everything seemed… Off. Part of me wrote it off on the lingering effects of my two-week cold.
As I wrapped up the evening with my pre-bedtime pump session, I scrolled through Facebook, simultaneously searching and not searching. And there it was. A status update from my friend’s wife with a million comments attached to it.
It’s a hell of a thing to find out your friend couldn’t make it to raid night because his brother had died in a car accident that morning.
There’s no way to describe the chasm that seemed to open up inside when I read those words. I could hear the pump’s steady rhythm— a direct opposite of the uneven, staccato of my breath struggling to not become sobs or racking coughs. When The Orc came up for bed, I couldn’t even tell him right out.
I know why he couldn’t make raid tonight.
Car accident. A bad one. Really bad.
Is he okay?
I have no wise sayings to offer. No wisdom, no inspirational stuff. Just… Hug someone. Tell someone you love that you do, in fact, love them a lot. Phone up a friend, family member, someone, anyone. Our lives are finite and fleeting, but not without meaning… We are not without substance. It’s up to us to determine what that substance will be, however.
Aside from leaving a huge hole in the hearts of those who knew him, my friend’s brother leaves behind a wife and two very young sons. They could use your help.
Thanks, love, and big internet hugs…