Epitaph

Nicholas Paris Meder 

January 24, 1977 - July 5, 2011

I try not to collect regrets, but I hold a few. Nicholas is one of them.

I lived with Nick and his mother for eleven years, entering his life shortly before his 7^th birthday. I was told he’d been a happy, energetic child in possession of a giggling curiosity that enamored all lucky enough to cross his wake. But his parent’s early divorce and a brief abusive relationship suffered by his mother covered that with a layer of sullenness and a new found wariness of men. Confronted with this situation, I found it convenient to follow the example my father had set. I stayed in the background. It didn’t occur to me that by doing nothing, I was doing something. That’s my deep regret.

Nick passed through his early teens with the typical misjudgments and accidents associated with youth. When I departed the relationship in his 18^th year, I felt we’d come to accept each other’s limitations, distrusting as we both were. From the outside where I comfortably sat, all seemed normal. It wasn’t.

Nick’s life became more tumultuous. His attempt to comfort himself with drugs resulted in addiction. His teens disappeared, then his twenties. He would appear to be on the right path only to stumble; again and again. Eventually, he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. His mother and his new stepfather offered patience and guidance, but the toll was exacting. We all resented Nicholas for the pain he caused both of them. When his biological father’s sudden illness took his life, a part of Nick seemed to die with him.

What caused Nick to make that permanent will never be fully understood. It just is; a familiar story that replays itself so often that we are almost immune, until it lands on your doorstep.

I remember shopping with Nick and his mother on our first Christmas together. We passed by the Salvation Army matron loudly ringing her bell. I self-consciously looked away. Nick reached into his pocket and put the five dollar allowance his mother had just given him into the kettle.

A child beset with big problems and an even bigger heart is gone. That is a tragedy.