In memory of Sean Cooley, RIP

 It feels strange to come back here, but I have to process this  poignant and devastating (for me) news). I’ll begin with the story of how we met, and how he stepped up for me, when it  could’ve been pretty easy not to.

When I was 22, I was a super senior at UVM, having abandoned my junior year mid semester, to pursue my life passion of working with horses in  England. That was a great adventure, but returning to school a year behind my class, was rough.  Until I discovered that my new major allowed me to study abroad.  In my final semester, winter,2007, I studied abroad (sort-of) in Belize. I’d planned my trip to return 2days before my graduation. 

The night before my graduation, I was passed out from lack of sleep, on a couch, amid my friends party, vaguely aware, a guy I didn’t know was desperate to get my attention.  I was finally in a ‘safe’ place to pass out, because I knew most of the people, and wasn’t on a plane, or chicken bus. I had, at last,  reached somewhere where I didn’t have to be constantly aware of myself, and my belongings. As soon as I sat down, I slumped, and the world fell away. Until some guy began relentlessly tapping my leg with his foot from across the room. I attempted to ignore him, but If continued over the course of a couple of hours (Annoying!). As people started to motivate to hit the bars, I stretched out to sleep on the couch, when I sensed a shadow near me. I opened my eyes to see this relentless guy standing over me, and 2 of my 2 friends observing this interaction from the door. He argued,  somewhat convincingly that this was my last night of college, and I’d always regret having slept it off.  Low and behold, he was right about that.  Though, let’s be real, his offer to give me a piggyback up the Main St. hill was the deciding factor that tipped the scales in his favor.   After going up to campus, I have spotty memories of taking iconic campus pictures, and of meeting him for breakfast the next morning, when he picked me up at another friends house near campus. That breakfast, I spilled coffee on both of us, as it poured through the metal table we sat at. I learned that he’d graduate St. M. Mikes the year before, was passionate about photography, and worked for the Burlington Free Press. Though, if I’m being honest, my real hook was that had a great sense of humour, and plans to go to Europe over the. summer to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers’, my favorite band.  Looking back now, that reads foolishly, but it was a great match for the summer. We had fun, exploring VT, visiting  a winery, going to the fair, hiking Mt. Mansfield.  I met many of his colleagues, and felt really out of place, being an unemployed and vaguely homeless new college graduate. But, I still recall how friendly, and welcoming they all were. He made an impression on everyone he met.

 When I wasn’t with him, I was either working per diem at the hospital, searching for, or interviewing for a real jobs that offered health insurance, or training for my first sprint triathlon. I also, went hiking in the Adirondacks with my friend Ann for 4 days, and had my homecoming and saw my friends and family in Maine. These are my people,and I relished being back with them. 

Around this time,my dad arranged for me to interview with a old neighbor of his, in a previous iteration of his life. I really only knew that she was extremely wealthy (intimidating!) and was looking for a personal assistant, and offering  a 3 figure starting salary. Even if I didn’t like it, I could pay off debt from school in3-4 yrs. Making that choice to leave Sean, a guy I was really starting to care for, as well as the life I knew and loved was gut wrenching.   At 22, love is a totally different animal, than it is as you start to age. Though, the idea of being debt free as soon as possible, won.  I selfishly chose the job, and tried to figure out how to be ok with leaving someone I loved. I was too chicken to say it, anyways, but that gnawing feeling that always reminds you that your choice will hurt you, and whoever you’re with, was there. My plans came together, so I could spend my 23rd birthday in Burlington, with my friends, and move to Texas, for the job, the next day. But that day, never came, at least for me. That night, as we passionately said our goodbyes, yes, exactly what you assume) I stuffed a sudden cardiac arrest, on my 23rd birthday.  Happy literal fucking birthday to me.  Amazingly, he knew CPR, and administered it, while yelling for help from my roommates  to call 9-1-1. I have very few memories of the next year, but Sean, my parents, and my close friends comprise the vast majority of them.  I was in 3 hospitals in 3 different states, an he was a constant fixture, alongside my folks. 

Looking back, he was the main reason I pushed to stay in Vermont to do my outpatient rehabilitation. Had I foreseen his need to move on, I might’ve chosen differently, though Vermont has offered me endless adventures, and the independence I’ve so flagrantly craved, and is now the place I call home. 

When Sean informed me, over the phone one thanksgiving, ofhis plans to attend  Northwestern in the fall, I knew we were over, just was at a loss of how to process that. We went through our motions, and he came to Michigan with me to my mom's parents memorial service. I was grateful to have  him there, though imagine it was an intensely stressful trip for him. First I had a seizure as we were leaving a restaurant, and the next day he went kayaking on Lake Michigan,unawares of a  storm-front brewing and was capsized. As we waited for him to return, it was finally decided that we should call the coast guard. They found him, slightly hypothermic, but ok once he got warmed up. In that moment, it briefly occurred to me how precious life is, and the next day my family gifted us the experience of parasailing. It was epic, in that moment, I was deliriously happy. Though, as soon we got back, he began packing to start his graduate degree at northwestern. The fact that this was goodbye, was not clear to me. I didn’t realize I was losing my  rock, and tried to email with him, but he was starting a new life, and moving on.  After a year of not  really hearing from him I realized he gone, and was full of hurt and anger. I’d guess this was also around the time he lost his father, and I regret adding to that pain. After 4-5 years having intense moments of loathing for him, and blaming him for putting me in this position, as well as abandoning me at a time when he was all I had (which I now see must’ve been awful for him). Though that was not apparent to my mind that early in my recovery. I was very much still in selfish child mode. 

As I started to realize how angry I was, I pushed him out of my mind, and focused on pursuing the activities I loved in life, running, and horses.  Though, when the horse I’d been riding, grew too old ,  amidst my grief of everything I’d lost from my injury, I struggled.  I reached out once for his cooperation with a legal matter, though otherwise forgot he existed, unless he was brought up  in conversation. As time passed, my anger dissipated, and I slowly moved on. 

He was such an awkward, yet truly hilarious guy. Laughing with him was a great joy, few people have ever cracked me up, the way he could. Probably, because he had no shame. The photographs I have with him, are utterly ridiculous, but we’re clearly happy, and amused in all of them.  Even if it was partially a show. , I’ll always be fond of them, and him.  He had a true gift in comedy, and I’m so grateful he saw me through my ‘worst of times.’

May you continue to help us see the joy, and comedy, in our lives, as you live on in our memories. 

For my family and friends, I read that he suffered 2 successive heart attacks, and a subsequent stroke. What killed him obviously hits very close to home, and is something I’m not able to process right now. 

I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye at 38, seems questionably unfair. Thank you for standing by me at the most difficult point in my life, and helping me push through some of the toughest parts. I haven’t seen you in well over a decade, but somehow the world feels less full, knowing that you’re missing from it.