Today, amidst the normal routines of my life and the demands of my children, I thought of an old high school classmate, a boy who was a year behind me in school. We grew up in the same church and attended the same youth group. For awhile, this boy had two friends named “Dean” . . . and since his name was also “Dean,” this was noteworthy.
The three Deans and my friend, Shelly, and I spent a lot of time together. I remember playing pool at Shelly’s house while the soundtrack to “Grease” played in the background. We had innocent fun together, unless you count the time the three Deans invited Shelly and I to a movie. My parents were strict but they trusted me. So, when I returned home from the movie and my stepmom asked, “What movie did you see?” I said, “Oh, the Pirates of Penzance.”
That’s the only lie I remember telling as a teenager. The three Deans actually took us to see Friday the 13th in 3D. My parents would not have approved and honestly, I would have agreed with them–who needs to see an eyeball flying towards them while wearing 3D glasses?
Anyway, so I was thinking about the three Deans today. I graduated from high school a year before they did and lost track of them. I didn’t come home from college during the summers at all. Even my closest friends fell away when I moved two thousand miles from home.
Today, I did a Google search on “Dean Ullestad,” the tall, lanky, blond Dean from my childhood and adolescence. That’s how I found out that he’s dead.
I found a Memoriam page on the 1994 high school reunion site. Dean’s picture is posted, alongside three other deceased classmates.
I could not be more shocked. I want to call someone, to email someone, to Google something to find answers, but I don’t know where to begin to uncover this news which is at least a decade old.
Other than that, my day was completely unremarkable. Stumble upon tragedy. Cook dinner. Life interspersed with death. I will never get used to it.
Actual Unretouched Photo 
It’s never easy to hear when a classmate passes. “life interspersed with death” says so much.
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Me neither. I remember when I was about ready to graduate from college. I found out the guy that took me to Prom died (from diabetes). I did not like the guy that much, it was a “friend date”, did not know him that well. But it hit me right out of the blue.
Sigh… I know wht you mean.
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I guess this happens to all of us and with much more frequency as we the remaining grow older. Goodbye Dean. I wish I knew you. Mel thought you were special. Goodbye Kevin, Greg, Tom, Tim, Bambi, and a hundred others.
Hugs for you Mel.
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So young, too!
Somehow, even though I obviously know it is inevitable, death always comes as a shock to me.
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Life interspersed with death. I will never get used to it.
I don’t want to get used to it…
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Recently I found out an old friend died of a drug overdose. I did search the newspaper’s website and found out more info, along with the obituary… it’s not easy. He was only 29 years old.
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I’m sorry to hear about this. Last year I also found out that a close high school friend of mine had died years earlier. I grieved like it had just happened. (For me it had.) Then I grieved that I hadn’t had a chance to spend more time with her, and that I had lost touch. I was trying to re-establish contact when I found something written about her through a google search.
http://www.yourtruehero.org/content/hero/view_hero.asp?36627
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I know all too clearly what you mean, Mel. My little brother, 26 years old, died on Tuesday. It has been surreal, even though we knew his life was heading in this direction for quite some time. Still, I have to go on with my daily life. Clean up after kids, cook dinner and then cry. Listen to music, read to my kids and then talk to my Mom or my sister on the phone about the whole thing and all the details surrounding it. (Similarly we don’t have all the answers.)
Death, I suppose, is something we are never supposed to get used to. It has always been and will ever remain the tattoo that sin permanently etched into our existence here on earth. It’s never supposed to feel normal.
Nan
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I lost track of a friend I had when I was a Senior and was equally shocked to see her photo in my 20 year reunion yearbook’s Memoriam. For some reason, those young people remain timeless to us, don’t they? And then reality hits us and it can be a real mindblower, that’s for sure.
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