Healing Hearts and Being The Difference

How do you repay the gift of life someone gave you after they died? How can a conversation decades ago change your life? And is Bingo truly my name-o?

The day after Christmas a friend reached to me to tell me that Erika had died in her husband’s arms on Christmas. I was at work and did not know how to process this because of what she meant to me. So I went outside to have a cigarette and a brief cry by the dumpster.

Not a lot of people knew yet. And I was not going to be the one who told everyone else. But I knew eventually the news would explode and I was not going to be ready for that. By evening people were texting me and calling me to tell me the news. I politely said I knew and thanked them and went on to the next phone call with the same news from a different person.

She breathed life into me when I was 15 and I got to return the favor a few times, but not enough. In a bit I am going to invite you to help me repay the debt and the gratitude.

I had moved in with my grandparents when I was 13. My home life before that was abusive at the hands of a cruel man who my mom married when I was nine. There was not a lot of me left after that. I was depersonalized, walked with a slouch, and spoke softly if I spoke at all. In 8th grade and Freshman year of high school, this made me a target for bullies. Sophomore year I wanted to be in things and make friends, but I did not want to try out for something and face rejection.

I found two solutions. Photographer for the school paper and stage crew. With the photography, I was never part of the student crew. I was not ready for that interaction. The photo assignments came from the teacher in charge of the program and I gave him my negatives and prints. I do not know what the student editors thought of this arrangement. I did not care. The teacher did not care either. He liked my content and I loved seeing my images in the paper month after month through my high school career.

Stage crew was where I met Erika. All I had to do was build and paint sets and change stuff between scenes. No audition, no rejection. The fall play I quietly did my thing and talked to almost no one and almost no one talked to me. I went to one of the cast parties and while drinking a soda I coughed a little and some of it went up my nose. Some of the kids made fun of me and teased me. Honestly? I had self unalive ideations that night. It would be my first failed attempt that no one knew about. Knots are hard.

Then came the spring musical. The teacher in charge of set designs for Pirates Of Penzance had everyone on stage crew working on a major project. We were making new flats from wood frames and cotton muslin cloth. I was quietly working by an upperclassman tacking muslin to the wood frames. She had her hair curled that day and was wearing large glasses that covered much of her face.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Pat” I said quietly. I said it so quietly she could not hear me. So I said it again.

“I’m Erika!” I nodded at her uncomfortably. Eye contact was hard. We worked the rest of the day in silence.

The next day I was at the set after school and I started working on a frame and she walked up to me and said, “Pat, right?”

I lit up. Someone was talking to me and remembered my name? I was elated but socially awkward and did not know how to handle this moment. With a smile on my face and inflection in my voice I said, “Bingo!”

“Bingo?” She said with a smile. “Yesterday you said your name was Pat. Now it’s Bingo?”

I took it way too literally. I started to explain to her what I meant. She told me she got it and then asked me to come with her. She spent that day introducing me to her friends. “This is my new friend Bingo, but you can call him Pat!”

For the next few weeks I was her shadow and she did not mind it in the least. She never bullied me, she included me in conversations, and as I weaned off of her and into the wild of the rest of the cast and crew, things changed.

In the year of 1986 a girl had a crush on me, I had my first kiss, my first date, my first friends since I moved in with my grandparents. People liked me and I liked them. And some of them called me Bingo. I wanted a cooler nickname, but I had a nickname. How cool was that?

Make no mistake I was still socially awkward, but as 1987 and 1988 came in, I was alive and known and recognized. I was the school paper photographer, was in the plays as an actor and in speech team and other clubs. There was a letter on my letterman jacket. I had pins and girlfriends and pals and adventures and was in the Thespian Society. The bullying ended and I had swagger and reputation. None of this would have happened without Erika. She gave me life. Considering where I was with ideations, she saved my life. The kid who did not care if he lived or died blossomed.

Erika was smart, funny, and a leader. Her friends were bound to her tightly and truly in friendships that were more rich with love than most people at that age in that time were capable of. They were bonds that lasted a lifetime.

There were people who were less than kind to her, mostly boys (even now I would not call them men). But even in the face of hurt and rejection, she was never unkind to others and set the tone for how her and her friends treated one another.

Her interests and hobbies in things like Star Trek were always expressed with enthusiasm and without apology. She never cared if what she was interested in was cool and if you liked something, she wanted to know more. It mattered to her. You mattered to her. She was not a candle in the wind, she was a shining beacon of light.

Around the time of my divorce in 2012 one of us sent the other a Facebook friend request. She got married to a man named Cliff and they had a beautiful child they adore named Neil. We liked each other’s posts and sometimes commented, but it did not get deep until 2020.

She had been observing me falling apart publicly. Between 2019 and 2020 my world would come undone. Years of improperly treated trauma and the slow death of my mom would culminate in the end of a relationship to a woman I was engaged to, a failed suicide attempt, and coming to grips with recovery from an addiction. Then shelter in place happened and I was forced into isolation just when I was started to claw my way back into the real world. She reached out and held space for me. Then the winds changed and I was able to repay the favor.

In 2021 Erika needed me to hold space for her. She was a caretaker for both her parents and it was taking an emotional toll on her. Like me when I was a caretaker for my mom, the trauma started coming to the surface of her past, the stress on her marriage, on her, and most importantly, she wanted insights from me parent to parent.

In our life we had some parallels. Trauma? Check. Victims of SA? Check. Caretaker for dying parents? Check. And our children? Both are on the spectrum and shared some other traits. I was a little further ahead in experience with the aspects of the parent care and the child. We would have late night conversations about the road ahead as a caretaker. More importantly, I was able to give back to Erika with advice on school systems, families, and alleged friends who did not “get it” in regard to some aspects of our beautiful children. Acceptance and advocacy and celebration was the theme of our parenting.

My openness about trauma, the pain and grief associated with caretaking, and raising a wonderful non binary and non neurotypical child helped her see me as a valued friend, kind pair of ears, and a consulting voice on the road ahead. I was finally able to give back and offer something to her.

In this last year I got to meet her husband and her child. They are both a delight and have gotten under my skin in the best possible ways. It was only two pizza gatherings and a friendsgiving, but they were wonderful times. Then we lost her just a few days before another pizza gathering.

A scant few days after her loss, the planned pizza gathering with high school friends happened anyway so we could all be together. Cliff and young Neal were there too. And knowing they might come I had some tactile stimming stress balls with me for Neil.

Neal gravitated to them and I gave the adults at the long table occasional attention, but Neal had my full attention. Just as a 15 year old perked up when Erika gave me attention, I got to give Neal the same attention when they perked up and a voice was found. And in Neal’s eyes and voice, I saw Erika. And I got to repay the debt a little more. I used the lessons I learned from Erika about kindness, respect, and love.

Cliff and Neal have a long road ahead and not much to work with in funds with a great many needs. Cliff and I sometimes have conversations and I appreciate this new friendship very much. I am in Neal and Cliff’s lives for as long as they will allow and time will allow.

Cliff has not only served his country as a marine, he served his family as a husband and a father. The role of father continues as they both process grief and loss together while also facing much uncertainty. And it is here that I need your help.

The Go Fund Me!

A part of me wants to copy past the whole damn Gofundme because people do not always click links and it is beautifully and poignantly written. In the Gofundme you will learn more about Erika, Cliff, and Neal. From the Gofundme I will speak briefly of the need:

Funeral and Immediate Expenses: Assist with the financial burden of funeral costs and immediate expenses that come with such a loss.

Bill Payment: Cliff is unable to work right now because he cannot leave his child home alone and money raised will keep the household afloat and the heat on.

Emotional Support: Provide the emotional support needed for Cliff to navigate grief, plan a memorial, and adjust to his new role as a single parent.

Stability for Neil: Contribute to creating a stable environment for Neil, ensuring that they continue to receive the care and support Erika fought for so passionately.

Emergency Dental Bill: Unfortunately, before we could even publish this fundraiser, another need arose – Cliff woke up in severe pain. He went to the dentist and discovered that he has an impacted and infected wisdom tooth. The surgery will be an out-of-pocket cost between $1,500 and $3,000. Your donation will help cover this unexpected expense and allow him to get this care.

It is not hyperbole to say that you are able to read my words because she was in my life. I am beholden to her and if any of this touched you and resonated to you, I need you to click the link to the Gofundme, give as generously as you can without hurting yourself, and share the Gofundme and this story.

Well over half of all Gofundme campaigns do not hit goal. Help me make this one of the few that meets and exceeds the goal. In a world of slactivism and inaction, be the difference as she was to me and so many others. Click, donate, share. Share it at least three times if you can so it hits the algorythms and her story and the need get the attention deserved.

This is the link to the gofundme. Every hyperlink in this article is to the Gofundme. In case you missed them click here.

And tell them Gen X Watch sent ya! Let Cliff and Neal see people they may not know express kindness and love!

Starting next week we will have Erika’s Female Fridays. On the social media and sometimes here there will be content about women that broke norms and made a difference. In this entry I am breaking type on the SEO metrics. I am not driving traffic to the Patreon or social media. I would not feel right profiting from this article. But I do feel right about featuring powerful women and pop culture icons that influenced a generation of amazing women like Erika.

Thank you in advance for your kindness, love, and generosity.