From the insanity of Panic and Anxiety Disorder to the calm through fitness.. This is my transformation story.
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

9.11.2010

Kevin S. Cohen

Kevin, 9 Years have passed since those selfish, crazy, inhumane bastards ripped you from this Earth.
9 Years of hoping and praying that when you left us it was sudden and without pain.
There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you, remember the fun times with everyone. For everyday I have a picture of you on my dresser that I look at when I get ready to go wherever it is I have to go, that you no longer can, sitting right next to a picture of the WTC that i took when I visited many years before I even knew you.
Once a year we are forced to relive the pain that those people caused far too many of us. Civilians, working to pay the bills, support their families, or feel that they have arrived when they looked out of those windows atop one of the largest buildings at that time, which you did. You were great a what you did, so many times helping me figure out what the problems were, when no one else was around and even though it wasn’t your job to do so. That was you though, always extending your hand out to others when they needed you. Always had your door open to welcome friends and family no matter the time, day or night.
Kevin, your death does not go in vain, we try everyday to fight for what they took and what they continually try to take from us, from their own people even. It does not make sense; your tragic exit from us does not make sense. 9-11, a day that doesn’t make sense.
Every year when the bell tolls the 1st time, it rings through me like ice, for that is when the plane took your life. The 4th toll is even colder because that is when your tower was nothing more than a mass grave.
We hoped, we prayed that you took the day off, or were out for a jog.. but like me, you were the early bird. Always starting the day when noone else was there because you can get more done that way, as i laugh.
Today i will not be laughing. I will be remembering you and those lost both civilian and military since this started.
May you eternally Rest In Peace Kevin.

Friends Everywhere

When Kevin S. Cohen was 4, his family moved to a new house in Edison, N.J. Rather than being daunted by the move, little Kevin, the youngest of two boys, set out to make new friends. Soon, he was standing at his front door pointing to all the houses where he had made a friend.
“He would point with his little hands and say, ‘That’s my friend across the street, and that’s my friend from next door, and that’s my other friend from that house,’ ” said his mother, Marcia Cohen. “And then, he never changed. He was like a mother that way. You know how children leave home and then it’s the mother who brings them together year after year? Well, it was like that with my son. He had friends from all over. He was very compassionate, a lot of fun. He loved people, and people loved him back.”
On Aug. 17, Mr. Cohen, 28, who worked at Cantor Fitzgerald, took his parents to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary. Mrs. Cohen was reluctant at first because she figured he would be tired on a Friday, after working all week. But he insisted.
“Kevin was so proud that he could take us to a nice place like that and take out his credit card and pay by himself,” Mrs. Cohen said. “He thought we had never been there before, but we had. We just didn’t tell him.”
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 24, 2001.

Kevin Cohen, 28, always on the go

Kevin Cohen loved to watch college and pro football — he always rooted for the underdog — and his favorite hobby was playing the keyboards in his New York City apartment, where the door was always open to friends.
Single, he possessed both boundless energy and a kind heart; he was the kind of guy who would call a friend’s mother, a widow, on Thanksgiving, and wish her well.
“I told him (recently), ‘Kevin, why don’t you slow down a bit?’ ” his mother, Marcia, of Edison, recalled. “He said, ‘Mom, I believe in living life to the fullest.’ “
Mr. Cohen, 28, a desktop support person for eSpeed, was working on the 101st floor of the World Trade Center‘s North Tower when the first hijacked airplane crashed into it on Sept. 11. His roommate, Scott Schertzer, 28, who worked for Cantor Fitzgerald, eSpeed’s parent company, was also among those lost.
Mr. Schertzer and Mr. Cohen attended J. P. Stevens High School in Edison together. Mr. Cohen went on to graduate from Western Oregon State College. He continued his studies in computers and became a Microsoft Certified Professional. Mr. Cohen then worked for Lucent Technologies before joining eSpeed a year and a half ago.
“He worked hard and played hard,” said Neil Cohen, his brother. “The guy was always on the go. He had more energy than anyone.”
“He had a great attitude,” Marcia Cohen said of her son. “Nothing got him down . . . He would call up and say, ‘Mom, I’m coming in and taking you out (for an anniversary or special occasion).’ It’s not like he was married and knew these things. He was single.’ “
Mr. Cohen loved to play and listen to music; his favorite groups were Widespread Panic and the Grateful Dead. In recent months, he had started exercising in earnest, running 5-8 miles a day, and was proud of the shape he was in.
Described by his mother as “always smiling, always happy-go-lucky,” Mr. Cohen wasn’t one to think much of or plan for the future.
“Kevin wasn’t the type of individual who made long-range plans,” said Barry Cohen, his father. “He lived day-to-day.”
Besides his parents and brother, Mr. Cohen is survived by his grandfather, Lou Nover of Manalapan.
Profile by Peter Genovese published in THE STAR-LEDGER.

10.08.2009

Listening

The Audio book i was listening to is now finished. (For back ground see my previous posts: Reading or Listening &   Reading or Listening II)
I am going to miss this book, and it’s narrator on my commutes back and forth to work.
I enjoyed this book so much that i actually listened to the Author talk about how the book came about after the story was finished. I just couldn’t let it go. Listening to the Author speak about the history of the book, made it that much more fascinating to hear. Normally i don’t like fiction because it is just that, fake, but this story appealed to me because though certain events could not have happened, we all sometimes wish that they did or could. The people were based off of people in his personal life, though maybe not their exact personalities, but.. well, listen for yourself and you will understand.
The emotional roller coaster was awesome. I was first intrigued, than i wanted to cry, and i might have had i not been driving on the highway during a rain storm (Ahhh the angels cried for me! ), anger would set in at times, then a lot of laughter, tears would flow again, laughter and on and on until the end when it all came together. Peace and calm would prevail at the end, then sorrow that the book was finished. I was almost hoping that there was a part 2!! but honestly i don’t think there could be.
“The Shack” is a book (in any format you prefer) that i highly recommend to those of the Christian Faith. If you don’t believe in God this book will not appeal to you because you just won’t understand it. Well… maybe you will, one never knows, it just depends i guess on how open minded you are. I recommend it especially if you have had something profound happen in your life and you just want some peace. It helps with perspective it really does.
I think tomorrow i may just start disk #1 again and try to listen to see if there wasn’t something i didn’t miss. Surely, the element of surprise won’t be there like it was for the last week or so, but maybe I’ll pick up on something. There were quiet a few times i would have to rewind and re-listen to some of the story because i was near a lot of other vehicles and had to pay extreme attention to the roadway, or i would just zone out thinking about something i just heard and mentally compared it to something in my life.
In any event, if you are looking for a light-hearted, life infused, roller coaster of emotion book to listen too or read, pick “The Shack” up. Surely you won’t be disappointed.

10.03.2009

Strength in Tragedy

Late last night my phone rang, it was my Mother, crying hysterically on the other end.
She had gone out with her lady friends for their monthly ladies dinner, and when she got home the waterworks started and didn’t stop. So she called me.
Not sure if you remember, but her Fiance (Ken Baker) passed away back in August. She was doing very well for a little while, but lately it’s becoming harder and harder for her to deal with his passing, understandably.
The ladies had gone to one of Mom and Ken’s favorite restaurants and more than 1/2 of the 14 of them ordered Chilean Sea Bass, his favorite. All of that just brought back the emotions i guess, but she managed to keep it together until she was on her way home, and that’s when it all really hit her.
Trying to talk to her on the phone last night was very difficult for me. I wanted to just bust out crying because i could hear the pain she was in. The ony thing i could do was offer her the support and pass on the knowledge i gained from when i was in therapy years ago.  Ironically, everything i was offering to her her temporary counselor had already spoke to her about. (I should charge for this! lol)
Suffering the sudden loss of a loved one is, i guess you can say, is a form of PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It can take up to 2 years, and longer in some cases, to deal with something of this magnitude. It did for me when i went through my situation back in 2005.
I went through psychological counseling and it was 4 years later that i started medication to help with the physical after effects of the stress. I feel great now. I love both of my doctors and the knowledge i gain from them is what is helping me deal with my Mother now.
Everything happens for a reason i do believe, as previously stated in other posts. Had i not gotten sick 4 years ago i would never be able to assist my Mother now in what she’s going through. Did it suck back then? Oh yeah, it felt like death was around the corner at every moment. But i fought and i beat it and i’m am an insanely stonger person for it.
Mom, everything will be ok. It sucks right now, but it will get better i promise. If it didn’t i wouldn’t be hear right now.

9.08.2009

Respect in Death

Today my Grandmother passed away. This would be my Mom’s Mom and the final Grandparent to pass.
My Grandmother and i weren’t very close. As a child we were, but as the years went by and her personality was understood by the adult me i didn’t really want to be around her that much.
I love my Grandmother don’t get me wrong, but i just couldn’t be near her without getting angry. As with all toxic things in life you just kind of stop being near them for your own sanity. Doesn’t mean i disliked her, i just disliked how she treated and manipulated people.
It really started with the death of her husband, my Grandfather, a man that i loved and adored more than anything in this world besides my own Father. I was very close to him, he taught me how to spell when we would go pick my Grandmother up from work. Foodtown was the first word i spelled; it was on the trucks in the lot next door to where she worked. He taught me how to play tic-tac-toe. He took me for walks passed the Edison Lighthouse to the statue that overlooked the train tracks so we could watch the trains together. He took me fishing when i was just a tiny child. I caught trout and sunnies! I had so many wonderful memories of my Grandfather.
When he became ill with dimensia it broke my heart. He didn’t know who i was anymore. When i would come over to have dinner with them he would refer to me as his daughter’s name (my Mom). I wouldn’t show how upset i was, but when i left i would cry my eyes out. It just pained me to see him dying slowly, and my Grandmother talking down to him like he could help his condition. That’s when it started for me; when i started to look at her differently.
When my Grandfather passed away on January 2, 2004 it broke my heart. What ripped my heart out was how his death was handled by my Grandmother. She basically threw him out with the trash. No service, no wake, no nothing.. she just cremated him. Didn’t tell us Grand children so we can pay our final respects no nothing. That is when the resentment started.
I tried to understand why she did it, pain, sorrow, anger, but it never made sense to me. When the weather warmed we (my Aunt and us Grandchildren) decided to allow his ashes to drift into the waters of the park in which he served as a park attendant before he retired. The park that he took me to to fish for the first time, the park we used to feed the ducks at, the park that i now walk in after work to feel close to him and meditate to him when life gets a little hard.
I still have a tiny bit of his remains in the receptacle in which they put him after cremation. He sits above my computer desk watching over me. I will never discard of him like my Grandmother did.
Since his passing, my Grandmother sold their home and moved into an assisted living facility where she would remain until she had to go to Hospice about a month ago, where she died today.
During her stay there she managed to manipulate her own daughter on too many occasions to count when she would need to travel across country to see HER daughter at college. So many times i had to check on her on my Aunt’s behalf because my G-ma would claim she was too ill for her to leave.. I would get there and she would be completely fine. That’s when i stopped visiting all together.
Eventually the phone calls would die down too because when i did call she would bust my chops and manipulate me and make me feel guilty for not calling more often. I wanted to, but she would make me so angry with all of the past manipulations with everyone else. As my Mother taught me, if you have nothing nice to say; don’t say anything at all.
That is where i left things with her until she went into the hospital a couple of months ago. I put all my anger and grudges aside to see her since we knew it wasn’t going to be long now.
In that time though, my Mom’s Fiance’ passed away suddenly, and i was left with the task of helping my Mother through her dark time. My Grandmother had a stroke anyway and couldn’t remember who i was, so as guilty as i felt i didn’t lose sleep at night because i didn’t come see her while she was at Hospice. My mom was my concern, and still is.
When the e-mail finally came from my Aunt today i really had no emotion. I’m not sad, i’m not happy, i’m not angry. I guess you could say i’m relieved that she is no longer suffering in her hell here on Earth, and that God accepts her into his world.
Goodbye Grandma. May you rest in peace finally. I’m sorry i didn’t visit you after your move to Hospice, but I will see you at the ceremony, say hi to Grandpa for me.

9.03.2009

Blink of an Eye

Life can change in the blink of an eye. A job can be lost, a job can be gained, relationships start and end suddenly, families brought together and torn apart, all within a blink of an eye. Never are these things foreseen or prepared for.
No one expects tragedy to knock on their door, if they did it really wouldn’t be a tragedy would it? Our family lost my Mom’s Fiance’ almost 3 weeks ago. When the news came i was so shocked it took 30 good minutes for me to understand what just happened. I cried on and off for days, helped my Mom through the wake and Funeral, and continue to be a sounding board and someone to talk to and do things with until the sudden shock of it subsides and she can continue with life on her own.
I always see these types of stories on the news, and i always think to myself  “WOW! that poor family how do they manage life now with that type of pain?” I guess i now know.
That made my morning commute a solemn one once i reached work. I witnessed the clean up of a really bad accident. I would be surprised if anyone survived it, and hope and pray that if they did they don’t live life like a vegetable.
My building is situated in an industrial complex off of a 4 lane road to which the entrance sits directly across the complex across the 4 lane. Speed limit is 50, but mostly everyone does 60+, myself included. Once i turned onto the 4 lane from the highway, i noticed A LOT of emergency vehicles ahead. I saw what appeared to be a Boar’s Head box truck up a curb being pulled back by a tow truck.
I had to make a left to cross the 4 lane, so i waited for on coming traffic to pass. This gave me time to observe the scene, and what i saw almost brought me to tears. A late 90′s Teal Ford Explorer was t-boned by said truck up the curb and into a poll and bushes. I would be surprised if anyone survived that. The truck was literally smaller than my car now, and the driver’s side was now outside of the passenger side that’s how crushed it was. I pulled across the 4 lane and stopped on my road. I was going to take a picture, like all of us camera phone junkies do, but i couldn’t. Somewhere a family was being notified that their loved one(s) had a tragic accident, and i immediately thought back to the phone call my mother gave me the day her Fiance’ died. They need their privacy, and the respect, not the media frenzy and the shock and awe photos to be blasted in blogs and on Facebook.
I made the sign of the cross, said a real quick prayer and headed to work.