Wild was… Untamed. He wasn’t supposed to die.

      12 Comments on Wild was… Untamed. He wasn’t supposed to die.

gravatar for Wild (wildoats1962)

William {Wild} Rice:  February 25, 1962 – September 18, 2017

 

He was my friend.

One of the best I ever had.

I loved him.

And now he’s gone.

 

I will probably be gone too, for a while.  At least from this space.

He was one of the reasons I loved blogging, one of the few people in my life who truly ‘got it’ ~ all of it, all the time, no matter what it was ~ and who gave the gift of loving people for who they truly were, rather than for what he wished them to be.

He was sweet and lovely and brilliant and funny and maudlin and ridiculous and he was too fucking young to die.

He’d lost the ability to contort his body but he could wrap his brain around absolutely any idea you threw at him and could bend words to his will.

Some people exist on a different plane, a different planet.  An alien he was not (though he loved Beeblebrox).  But his mind was a universe of its own.

He deserves better words than I can muster right now.  (Somehow “You weren’t supposed to die, you bastard!” doesn’t seem appropriate.)  (And yes, Wild would find that funny.  🙂 )

So instead I will sign off with the words of Isaac Asimov, whose explanation for Why? makes more sense to me now than ever, and is one that Wild would appreciate:

THERE IS AS YET INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR A MEANINGFUL ANSWER.

.

And until I can find an answer – or, at the very least, find a sense of acceptance for this loss – I will be absent from this space.

Between now and then…

PLEASE:  Go love somebody.

Don’t put it off.

You may not have tomorrow.

12 thoughts on “Wild was… Untamed. He wasn’t supposed to die.

  1. Collaredmichael

    I’m sorry for the pain you must endure at this time. It sounds like Wild was quite a guy. He would not want to stop your actions in any way. He seemed an encourager! All the best and we’ll see you when you’re back.

    Reply
  2. Dawn D

    Hugs.
    There is much more I’d like to offer, but the thoughts are a mumble in my brain.
    So hugs. Take your time. Rejoice in the good times had and grieve for the big hole left behind.
    Hugs

    Reply
  3. Bonnie Dale Keck

    Never would call him by his name/s…John because of John Mark, William because of a close friend that had died, Bill because ewww reasons won’t go in to…so, never called him by his name, just Wild … Wild {Rice}, get it, he’d had that nick name since college.

    I like to think, as political as he was, that he just couldn’t deal with Trump world anymore, and yes he’d think me saying that was funny, man could he go on tears of rants about politics; I was in Iowa in the last election, we went to caucus together, and yes we were in the same room, voting for the same person {Bernie}.

    btw don’t like the picture, though better than obit one js

    https://searchingforkeylargo.files.wordpress.com/2017/09/993886_793717627429964_8877360504636871355_n.jpg

    Reply
    1. Mrs Fever Post author

      He was always surprised when I’d call him by his name, voice-to-voice. I asked him once if it threw him too much, if he’d prefer that I call him Wild.

      “Nooooo…” he said, in that ‘I’m contemplating something’ drawn-out way of his. “I like it when you say my name.”

      It’s all the things I *didn’t* say that are eating me up, now.

      You just never know. You can never assume, or take for granted, or let things go, because you just never know.

      I hope you are okay, Bonnie. I can only imagine how you must miss him. Sending you positive thoughts and grief-soothing feelings, across the ether. Please let me know if there is anything I can do.

      xoxo

      Reply
      1. Bonnie Dale Keck

        My brain has always been more mental than emotional {according to some the mental part makes sense, just because they don’t understand my thought processes and links}, bothers me I didn’t get to talk to him that last weekend, but that seems to be the pattern, didn’t get to talk to my photographer friend either {and couldn’t visit, as had staph and it would have killed him even sooner than the cancer did}, and not John Mark because the ambulance had him then when he was in the room we weren’t allowed to go in, then he was gone. I did a wordpress or 2 about trump, he’d have liked that {Wild, not trump, he’s like Mikey on Life commercial, he doesn’t like anything but white stuff that can make him money basically}.

        Managed to get hold of his sister, didn’t have the number, always talked to her when he did every weekend, but also have her on fb now not that she uses it that much, and in my very male brained way I could picture his entire house and listed off for her and her best friend who will be {or has already} helped her clear the house some because bitch cow says she can’t stand to do it, i.e. too f’n lazy. She mentioned a scarf someone was supposed to have made her, paid for the material and everything but never got it; hanging up when go in back door is a doctor who scarf, modified to colors he wanted and his length {5’6” same as me} as those are almost 30 feet in length some patterns {there are like 6 different patterns/years}. Told her about my bread maker and pasta maker in basement area, where all the extra extra shampoos/cream rinse/body wash/toilet paper/paper towels were. Oh, and their mother’s coat Wild had let me use while there, very nice waterproof with liner, gloves etc in pockets. It’s a type of detachment I suppose, but it gets things done and I deal with the emotional aspects as them come here and there. He was always more of a ‘girl’ than I was, and yes used to tell him that and yes he agreed.

        Things suck giant greasy donkey dicks; I deal. That’s my way.

        Reply
        1. Mrs Fever Post author

          I get it. (Minus the donkey dicks. Because, eeeeuw. 😛 )

          And one thing I always loved about him – something the two of you had in common – was his ability to not only jump tracks on his Wild train of thought, but to completely hijack the whole kit & caboose and speed headlong for destinations unknown. 🙂

          {He loved that Dr Who scarf, you know. And the person who made it.}

          Reply
  4. Indigo byrd

    You have my sincere good wishes and a big hug (if hugs are permitted) from a stranger across the other side of the world who knows how awful it is to lose someone you care abt deeply. I hope you have good folk around you to mourn with, and help you care for yourself. Indie xx

    Reply

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