Farewell to an old fishing friend

For the past couple weeks I have been dealing with the death of an old friend, Greg Cleverly. The hard thing about his death is that my relationship with him dates back to when I was a kid in college. So many good and bad waters have flowed over our bridge since then. The reason I say “dealing with” is that his death is the result of him taking his own life. It’s just hard to say suicide , because you feel like if you say those words aloud, or worse yet if you print them, that your are spitting in the face of all that love and know him, and that you are somehow being disrespectful. I do not want to show any disrespect for him or his family. I love them so much, and I do not want do not want to hurt them in any way. But I was so deeply affected by him that I am struggling with what happened to him, and that he would end his own life. I always say that some people “get into your blood stream” and those that do, remain there forever. He is in my bloodstream.

For over two years we have not spoken; I have shut him out of my life. We were involved in business, and things just went bad. Throughout the past couple years, we have had very little contact. He found out that my dad had cancer, and he reached out to me. We came close to reconnecting, but I still had pain in my heart, and I did not feel that it was time to let him back in my life. Over a year passed, and in that time, I think he went into a dark place. I had no idea how much light was shut out of his life.

His funeral was hard for me. I was asked to speak and it was tough. It was not so much difficult to speak, or to be there, but it was hard inside to sort out my feelings. I wish that it would have turned out different for him. I wish we could have bumped into each other some place, at a store or at some event and all the pain and problems from the past would have melted away and we could go fishing again together again as friends.

My mom has always said that you are lucky if you have one true friend in this world. I must be one lucky son of a bitch then. I have had the good fortune to have many friends that I would count as in that category. I have a handful of old friends that I would go to the end of the world for, no matter what the cost, and some new friends as well. Greg was one of those friends. I wish so much in my heart that the trouble between us could have been resolved. I guess I can blame him for leaving, and I can blame myself for taking so long to get over things. Or perhaps I can find a way to make it right with those that are still living. I miss my friend. Greg, I hope you are waste deep in a new river.

He was the best damn fisherman I have ever wet a line with!