An acquaintance of mine died recently. Branden Dallo, age 21, Valhalla 07 graduate. A classmate of mine. He worked at the Harvest Ranch next door to my Starbucks, and we would always joke around when we saw each other. And then, just like that, he's gone.
I don't do well with death. No one close to me has ever died. Ben Hedberg, who I knew in middle school, died several years ago. But that was different, as I hadn't seen him for a few years, and I never really talked to him. And my maternal grandmother died when I was 11 or 12, but she lived far away and I didn't know her too well.
Am I being selfish, just talking about my own feelings when a person has died? Probably. But writing has always been a good coping mechanism for me. I suppose dealing with death is just part of the maturity process. Undoubtedly, someone close to me will die someday, and I can't imagine ever dealing with something like that.
It's strange going about about my normal life after something like this. Play a video game? Study for a final? Read a novel? I feel selfish doing things that interest me. Life really is too short.
What's especially tragic is how he died. He crashed his car drunk driving. It's so awful to hear that it was something so preventable. And it's kind of spooky that my last post here was about drunk driving. I cited statistics and everything. Dallo, as I called him, has now become a statistic.
Here's to my friend, Branden Dallo. Rest in peace.