Chase Ungerman Passed away

These were my thoughts I recorded right after hearing the news that Chase had Passed:

I was sleeping comfortably in a warm bed last night with no knowledge that hundreds of miles away members of my family were experiencing the worst night of their lives. I did not hear the phone ring but I was instantly awake when Mandy said the cell phone was ringing. I could not think of any good news that comes at 2:30 in the morning. I picked up the phone and saw that mom had called. I returned her call and she informed me with a quaky voice that we had lost Chase in a traffic accident.

I was silent. Of all of the horrible scenarios that I had envisioned, this one was one of the least plausible. I have no appropriate responses for this news. At the core of my being I know that Chase is happy where he is. He would not want us to be sad. He is with many of his friends and family that he knew before he was born. It is us who are alive who are actually not where the party is happening. While we furiously toil away on meaningless pursuits, irrelevant concerns and mindless activities meanwhile shoving aside the important, the precious and neglecting the cherished times in life. I know Chase would rather we celebrate his life rather than mourn his passing. Still… sharp pains of intense sadness arise in me when I realize there will be no more times in my life to sit down with Chase and have him tell me about a humorous adventure he was recently involved in. No more times when I will see him saunter up to me with a smile and ask politely “How are you Uncle Ster?” I have always known chase to be the quintessential gentleman. Polite, courteous, attentive and accepting. If Chase was on the Titanic I am sure you would have seen him calmly strolling around a listing deck, helping people into life boats, securing other people’s life vests and reassuring people with a “you will do just fine.” I loved to just sit together with Chase and watch life roll by. His calm, sincere and fun personality seemed to radiate from him and he could always pepper you with funny quips.

I have always looked up to my brother Doug. He struck a beautiful balance between being Chase’s father and his best friend. Whether that was coaching and playing crew support when Chase was racing, or Hunting, fishing, floating, camping, or riding together… Doug and Chase spent consistent and consecutive quality hours together that many fathers (myself included) don’t know how, neglect or fritter away when they do arrive. Doug has nothing to regret in the way he raised chase. I fear that Doug will hurt and miss his best friend. I hurt for Doug, chase and Gwenette as I think of him noticing an empty spot in the driveway, one of chase’s favorite mugs or an unusually quiet afternoon. Those moments when the remorse floods through your body and you find yourself suddenly choking down a lump in your throat with the bitter after taste of vacancy and loneliness. I know he knows he and Chase will be reunited again. But maybe that is what is so difficult for me deal with that there is little I can do to ease my family members pain. The reason I have no appropriate response to this news. The reason that all I had to say to Doug was “I don’t know what to say” because it seems there is little I can do to stop the inevitable pain that he is going through.