3/14/16
Dear Phil,
Ten years ago tonight you left us. Cardiac arrest brought on by an overdose of narcotics, and I’m still not sure exactly how it happened. I have my suspicions, but I guess it really doesn’t matter now. The point is you’re gone, and you’ve missed a lot.
My girls still talk about you. Susan remembers you; she was a few weeks short of her sixth birthday when you died. She remembers you were planning on coming to her birthday party. Caroline and Grace were too little to remember you when you died; Gracie was only twenty months old. But they love to hear stories about you, and I have some good ones. One of their favorites is about you flipping off the evangelical Christian protestors outside a Bruce Springsteen concert in Denver. I called it the patented Phil one finger salute. I like the story too. What were those people thinking, anyway?
- Phil after the Springsteen concert, September 1985
My girls are awesome, Phil. You would be very proud of them. Susan has your attitude and smarts. Caroline and Grace have your twisted sense of humor. They’re great kids and I wish you were here to see them. Their mom moved them away from me a few months ago and that still stings a little. But I call them every night and I see them as often as I can. In my heart I hope you are able to check in on them for me sometimes.
- Susan and Phil, November 2000
A lot of stuff has happened in our family since you left. Dad and Ray have passed away. Kind of hoping they’re with you and Mom. It would be cool if they were. I got divorced. I’m back to being a principal and I have a great job. I get to help kids who really need it. It reminds me of the stories I heard from your cop friends about you the night of your viewing, only happier. Apparently you never met a kid on a call that you didn’t feel compassion for and want to help. One of your friends called you Officer Sugar Bear. That made me smile on an otherwise very unhappy night. I like to think you would be proud of me for doing what I’m doing.
- Officer Sugar Bear, WVPD
A few months before you died you called me expressing a lot of regrets about things that happened when we were growing up; stupid fights, unkindnesses, etc. I think about that conversation sometimes. I was telling a good friend a few nights ago about that phone call. I wish I could talk to you about it now and let you know that everything is okay. I told you that then too, but I’m not sure you understood. Those “hurts” you thought you did to me were just a part of growing up fourteen months apart. It makes me smile and feel a little sad that you regretted not working a shift at Day’s Market for me when we were in high school when I wanted go chase some girl. I didn’t even remember that incident, but you did; just a symptom of the world famous Rasband over-active conscience. Now that I’m pushing fifty-two, I really do understand that life is too short and precious to be spent on silly regrets about things that don’t matter.
Speaking of over-active consciences, I have some profound regrets about you, Phil. I feel like you were hurt badly by people who should have helped you, and I was too young to really understand how adversely that affected your life. People who were supposed to be your religious and spiritual leaders did you a huge injustice. I regret that I didn’t step in and push harder when you needed me most, when someone you trusted was isolating you from the people who could have made a huge difference in your life. My mind tells me that there was only so much I could do, and that I couldn’t rob you of your free will, as much as I wish I could’ve. My heart tells me I should’ve done more. Stupid heart. It’s probably right.
Anyway Phil, you’ve missed a lot. There is some damn good rock and roll we could be listening to. Bruce is still going strong at sixty-six and touring away. Caroline texted me this afternoon to tell me that he is going to be in Seattle next week. I imagined what it would be like to head up there with you, pick up the girls, and take them to their first Springsteen concert. Instead you're dead and I have to work. I know you could’ve come up with even more colorful adjectives to describe Donald Trump than I have, too. Susan would have appreciated that.
I miss you Phil. You were a hell of a guy and a damn good brother. I miss your laugh and your no bullshit attitude. You left an incredible legacy to the people who knew and loved you. And I hope you finally understand how much you were loved.
Love your bro’,
Rich
