"Zuluman", by Desi
Rick Speaks
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March 11, 2000: Dear Des, One year ago today at this time, you were still alive. In a few short hours that statement will no longer be true. I still remember just like it was yesterday. Judie and I came through the door. She told me to hurry up and change because we had to be in North Vancouver to meet three of the LOL for supper. It was shortly after 5 p.m., supper was at 6. The phone started to ring. I looked at the call display. It said BC Tel calling card. I yelled to Judie that it was Des. She excitedly yelled back for me to pick it up in fear that he would hang up shortly and we would miss hearing his precious voice. Judie and I both got excited when we heard from Des, even if it had only been hours since we last talked to him. I picked up the phone and said, "Hi, Des." The voice on the other end said, "Rick, it's Neil." I enthusiastically said, "Neil, hi, how are you doing?" Neil replied, "Rick, Desi's dead." I felt as though I had been shot, my knees buckled, I felt faint. All I could say was, "Neil, no, what happened?" As hard as this was for me to hear, I realize how tough it was for Neil to say. This was Neil's buddy from birth, they were more like brothers, and indeed I thought of Neil as one of the family. Neil knew how much we loved Desi and how devastated we would be. It took an awful lot of guts and courage, but he knew, he had to be the one to tell us. Things began to whir around me, my head inflated to the point I thought it would burst. I hadn't told Judie yet, but she was crying hysterically. She knew from my actions and lack of follow-up questions the worst had happened. Tamara came downstairs. She had thought that some people were out in the lane fighting. I told her what happened. The three of us sat on the couch hugging and crying and pondering the sheer disbelief of it all. We didn't have any details other than Des was killed on a motor scooter. Neil was going to call back in fifteen minutes. He told us the most difficult part and he needed time to compose himself as we did also. I can't describe the confusion, anguish, remorse, hopelessness, guilt, shock, but it was all there. A year has passed and I can honestly say it doesn't seem like a year. The anguish, remorse, hopelessness and other feelings have left. Loving you and missing you dearly remain. You will never be forgotten. I know we will meet again. Des, I want to thank you for giving me the honour and pleasure of your beingness for almost twenty-four and a half years. I love you. I miss you. Dad
September 1999: Dear Des, I'm writing you in the hopes that this will free both of us. That dreadful night I answered the phone and heard Neil say "Rick, Desi's dead" I died for a moment too. I felt as though all life had been sucked out of me. I was stunned, horrified and confused. I immediately wanted it not to be true. Had I known that that day on Cambie Street across from Neil's place would be the last time I would see you, I would have hugged you longer and harder than I did that day. I would have told you again that I love you and I would have done something that I haven't done since you were seven or eight. I would have kissed you good-bye. I remember when I used to change your shitty diapers, feed you, lay with you until you fell asleep. All pleasure moments. I watched you grow from a happy little boy, who wanted to be just like his father - but thank God changed your mind, and developed your many skills and became a handsome, funny, immensely talented and caring young man. I was your father, yes, but I was also your friend, not to mention your number one fan. You had no greater admirer of your music or art. I also know you love me greatly. There is a pain that runs deep in me, but it is lessened by the fact that I know you will do well wherever you decide to go. I am selfish and want you back, but I know that cannot be. Since your birth I have never gone longer than a week without communicating in one form or another with you. It's been almost six months since you called to wish me a happy birthday. Given this length of time I have to conclude that you are indeed gone and I have to move on. I know that is what I would want if it were me and I know that it's what you would want. Before I let you go I want to say how proud I am to have been your father. You taught me many lessons. When I listen to your songs I'm amazed at how sensitive you are. This is a trait I admire and to this day I'm trying hard to cultivate within me. Your ability to remain calm and fearless was also admired by me. We had many heart-to-heart talks during our camping days which I will always cherish. We had great times golfing (I'm sorry to say wherever you are now you will need more golf lessons, this is one sport you haven't mastered). I didn't think it was possible to love you, Tamara and Judie as much as I do. I think this is why it hurts so much. My only wish is that I could have been there that night to hug and kiss you, to let you know everything would be all right. I feel so hopeless and helpless, wondering if I had been there could I have stopped all this. I will never know. I'm not sure if this is my final letter or not. I will tell you that you will always be in my heart. I know I will see you some day, I wish it were soon. Knowing you, everything will be scouted and you will be waiting for us. Well, buddy, I love you. Hugs and Kisses,
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