When I was 19 years old, back from my first year of college, my world was shaken by a devastating phone call. My dad received the news that my friend Esteban had died in a drunk-driving accident on a highway in Texas. It was the first time in my life that news hit me so profoundly, causing an outpouring of uncontrollable emotions. I remember standing in a parking lot, overwhelmed by the most intense pain I had ever experienced.
As I tried to process the loss with my parents, who didn’t know Esteban, I found myself explaining who he was to me. I had just started attending Baylor University, a Southern Baptist school, which was a significant culture shock for me as a kid from Southern California. Amid this new environment, I met Esteban through another friend. He was like Fonzie from Happy Days – everyone loved him. Athletes, band members, fraternity guys, regular students – Esteban had a magnetic energy that drew people in.
Esteban took me under his wing, helping me connect with friends and offering comfort and belonging in a challenging time. He was a true friend and leader, but at 18 or 19, I never told him how much he meant to me. When I got the call about his death, I felt an immense sense of loss and regret for not having expressed my gratitude and affection for him.
I flew to Texas for his service, but I found the focus to be more on religious conversion than celebrating Esteban’s life. I didn’t hear his name mentioned as much as I needed to, and it felt like our true farewell took place later, in a friend’s backyard. Unfortunately, that farewell involved numbing our pain with alcohol and drugs.
Eventually, I found healthier ways to cope with my pain. I discovered a group of courageous individuals willing to confront their pain head-on. They showed me that avoiding pain through substances or escapism only prolongs the suffering. Instead, they taught me to face my pain, identify its sources, and take actionable steps to heal.
Through this journey, I worked through my grief for Esteban, finding peace and saying a proper goodbye to my dear friend.
Reflecting on Your Pain
Do you have someone like Esteban in your life? Are you carrying pain that you’ve been avoiding for too long? Many of us turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms – drugs, alcohol, food, escapism – to numb our pain. But there are other, healthier ways to heal.
I’m here to talk if you need someone to listen. I have friends and colleagues who understand the depths of pain and are willing to help you navigate it. We might not know your specific pain, but we know our own and can offer a safe space for you to share and heal.
Society often tells us that time heals all wounds, but that’s only part of the truth. Time alone isn’t enough; we must take action within that time to truly heal. Don’t let unaddressed pain limit your life. Reach out, talk to someone, and start your journey toward healing. Your life can be more than carrying a backpack full of unresolved losses. We’re here to help you find a way to let go and move forward.
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