Jim Binkley: 10 Years Later Part II

Dinner At Jim & Cynthia's

If there's one person I wanted to talk to after Jim's death, it was his (then) ex-girlfriend Cynthia. They had broken up about a month prior to Jim's suicide. I met her back in October 1999 when Jim invited me over for dinner prior to my 21st birthday. He volunteered to meet me at the Waterford Summit Place Mall in Waterford, MI. I didn't even know he had a girlfriend let alone lived with her in Sterling Heights, MI. Anytime I wrote to him, I sent the letter to his Clarkston, MI address, thinking he lived in Clarkston, the same place he raised Mike and his daughter Shannon, which I didn't know he had a daughter until he passed away. I'll get to that later.

I figured it would be closer for me to drive to his house in Clarkston instead of Sterling Heights, that's when he wrote and told me no can do (his exact words). That's when he told me he lived in Sterling Heights with his girlfriend. He told me him and Cynthia were going to cook me dinner to celebrate my birthday. I thought that was special, and I was excited to meet Cynthia and to see Jim again, whom I hadn't seen in several months since the Bavarian Inn Lodge outing.

I met up with Jim at the mall. I knew who he was as he pulled up beside me in his Jimmy (I believe it was a dark Jimmy) and I greeted him with a hug. We headed to his house and Cynthia was there to greet me. I still remember looking on the wall and seeing a large portrait photo of Mike, his son, wearing a Pittsburgh Penguins NHL hockey jersey. He told me Mike was a big Penguins fan. Jim and I headed off to the store to buy some things for dinner. He took me a store in Sterling Heights that sold fish, crabs, fruits and veggies. We had steak for dinner.

Prior to dinner, Jim gave me a gift for my birthday. I explained to them that they didn't have to get me anything, a nice dinner was beyond a wonderful gesture. I opened the gift and it was a white sweat shirt and embroidered was our CF camp mascot (beaver) and below that it read Camp Onkoi Benek. I loved the sweatshirt, (especially since it was custom made), but looking back, I feel bad, because I only wore it once or twice, because it was white and I was afraid I'd get something on it.

Memories from that day with Jim and Cynthia are hard to recall, but I do remember Jim's computer/business room. We went through camp photo albums and he had a photo of me on his desk. I could tell CF camp and the CF community meant a lot to Jim. At that time he was a member of Michigan Pulmonary Disease Community Incorporated (MPDCI), the same group of folks who spent hours fundraising and putting on Camp Onkoi Benek for 25 years. At the time, Jim worked on the bulletin newsletter known then as the Beaver Bulletin, which was sent via postal mail every 3 months. That day was special and I'll forever hold it in the palm of my hand. That was the last and only time I saw Cynthia. I think of her from time to time.

MICHINDOH

Jim and I had been communicating via e-mail, which was much easier and it gave my hand a rest from writing to so many of my camp friends, which I had been doing since 1988.

Late Spring of 2000, Jim sent me some information on MICHINDOH conference center, which is a Christian camp and conference center in Hillsdale, MI, which MPDCI rented the facility in 1998, 1999, and 2000. Onkoi Benek Family Retreat was much different than CF camp with more infection control guidelines, but there were two sessions (like CF camp) for the cepacia positive and cepacia negative campers. Jim wanted me to go in 2000 and I was on board.

I had a lot of fun during those few days and saw several people that I hadn't seen since camp '96, which include Carol Carney, Angela Murtagh, Maggie Marcus and Neal Dantes, who was only there for a day or two. I last saw Jim Meyer in August 1996, Ski back in 1999, along with Ann Marie Jewell. I last saw Jamie Kloote back in the Fall of 1997. This was the last time I saw Jamie, as she died 17 months later on November 12th 2001. One of the highlights from those few days was receiving a hair cut from Angela. She gave me a short hair cut and my hair has been short ever since, though now, I buzz it down myself.

MICHINDOH (abbreviated for Michigan (MICH), Indiana (IND) and OHIO (OH) was quite far from my house. It was a 2-hour drive to Hillsdale, MI. This would be the final year for the Onkoi Benek Family Retreat. No other function like it has been held since 2000. Angela did put on a throwback type weekend at the old camp facility from July 23rd - 26th 2015. I didn't attend.

Death of A Friend

Jim and I continued to communicate and on Sunday, April 8th 2001 I received the call that in many ways changed my life. Jim called to tell me that my CF friend Christy White had passed away. I hadn't talked to Christy in 9 months. I remember Jim's voice like it was yesterday and I could tell he regretted being the one to tell me about Christy passing away on Saturday, April 7th 2001. Christy and I were close on many levels, but I had never went that long without communicating or hearing from her.

I planned on attending Christy's funeral and called Jim the next day and asked if he was going to attend. He didn't know Christy that well, but told me he did take her home from a camp function a few years back. He told me if I was going, he'd go, and so we both went together.

Jim picked me up around 8 AM on Wednesday, April 11th 2001 and we headed to Flint, MI. Before that we stopped off at Brown Funeral Home off Davison Rd in Flint (which has since closed) so Jim could pick up a funeral memorial card or two for those that couldn't attend Christy's funeral. I had no clue who he was picking them up for, but he asked if I'd be ok, and that he'd be back in a bit.

There I was, alone with Christy, and I was glad I had those 15 minutes to say my goodbyes before she was moved to the church. To say you could  hear a pin drop in that funeral home was an understatement, because no one was there besides the funeral home director. The only other CFer that attended was Ann Maire Jewell and her Mom. During the service, I looked over at Jim and saw a tear come from his eye. I had never seen Jim cry before.

I still remember hugging Jim and remember how his suit felt. After Jim passed away, I was bothered by the notion of me asking him (in a round about way) if he'd come with me to the funeral, forgetting all about Mike passing away and him having to go through those memories again, or those feelings returning. Even though Christy's passing was 5 years before Jim's, I thought maybe it might've been too much for him, but he seemed to be fine after the funeral.

Myself, Jim, Ann Marie, and her Mom went across the street and got something to eat. It was nice seeing them again. I hadn't seen Ann-Maire since MICHINDOH back in July 2000. I'd see her again in 2002 and once again in 2003 prior to her family moving to North Carolina.

As for Jim and myself, that would be the last time I'd see him. From time to time I'd ask how Cynthia was doing. His response would be.

"She be good."

Anytime I'd ask how she was doing, it was always a short answer and nothing more.

For the next six years Jim and I kept in contact, but toward those later years, we didn't keep in contact as often. Even if we had, I know Jim wouldn't have told me what was going on in his life.

Jim's Suicide

It was a day or so after October 24th 2006, and I remember my Mom and I hearing on the local news about a fire that occurred off Everest Dr. in Clarkston, MI. Since I wrote to Jim quite a bit since 1995 (when we met at CF camp), I instantly recognized the street name. We didn't get the whole news story, thus I looked it up online via our local county paper (Oakland Press) and read the report.

The article stated that a 63 year old Clarkson resident (with address and street name) set his home on fire and committed suicide by putting a pistol to his head. The article mentioned (if I recall correctly) the fire (they believed) started in a bedroom. To my knowledge, no one from CF camp (campers or adults) had been to his home in Clarkston.

Anyway, neighbors spoke about Jim and they all had one thing in common. They really didn't know him, just that his kids grew up in the home and that years ago his son passed away. They mentioned he was a private person and kept to himself.

I learned quite a bit after Jim's death. MPDCI hadn't heard or spoken to Jim for a year or so, and when I talked to Debbie Ajini (CFer and member of MPDCI) she was shocked to hear that Jim was communicating with me, because she explained to me that they hadn't heard from him in over a year.  I told her the last time I heard from him was 3 weeks before his death, and when I told her about his suicide, she told me she thought that's how Jim died. It wasn't a shock (to her) that his death was a suicide.

I'm not sure how it occurred, but Debbie talked to Jim's daughter, Shannon. WHAT? Jim had a daughter? That's exactly what I thought. I don't think anyone knew he had a daughter, whom at the time was 30. I don't know what occurred or what the fall out had to do with, but she (when I communicated with her) told me she hadn't heard from her Dad or spoken to him in 10 years. She would've been about 20 or 21.

MPDCI hadn't heard from Jim due to a fall out. I was told it had something to do with missing funds (money) and at the time (I believe) Jim was in charge of finances within the organization and it sounded like Jim was having issues even a year before his suicide, in-which they tried to get him help, but he declined. It sounded like Jim got upset and didn't want anything to do with anyone from MPDCI. I never knew about a fallout or any issues at the time between Jim and MPDCI.

Jim and Cindy broke up a month or so before Jim's suicide. Jim Meyer and Debbie were the only two I told about how Jim committed suicide. I recall Ann Jewell asking me how Jim died, and I told her he committed suicide and nothing more.

According to Google Map, a home was rebuilt on the property in 2008. It looks nice.

10 years have passed since Jim's death, and I think of him from time to time. I'll always remember our last conversation 3 weeks prior to his death, as I asked him what some of his favorite songs were.  He enjoyed Van Halen (David Lee Roth era), so we both had something in common. He told me one of his favorite songs was 'Last Date' by the late Floyd Cramer from 1960. I'm not sure what the song meant to him, because I knew Jim was a private person, so I didn't ask. Whatever the song meant to him, I knew it was happier times for Jim.

I remember telling Shannon how much her Father did for MPDCI and how he helped out at CF camp and was there for everyone. She was surprised to hear about the things Jim did for the local CF community. She was glad to hear that he was that kind of person toward us.

I'll always remember Jim for the person he was from 1995 until his death. Though, there was a lot that many others didn't know. I think if we hold onto the good memories we shared with Jim, that's what he would've wanted.

I leave behind one of Jim's favorite songs.  'Last Date' (1960) by country legend Floyd Cramer.

Remembering Christy White 15 Years Later

Anytime I see a bench, I always think of her, due to the dreams I have (part III)

To those that I went to school with (and others), a lot of you didn't know that there was a special friend in my life from 1995-2001, someone to share my ups and downs with, someone who could tell me their fears, their whispers, and their struggles. Christy Nichole White was that person. We both had something in common and that was Cystic Fibrosis (CF). I knew Christy for 6 years, and during those years we talked on the phone, postal mailed one another, chatted on the internet and saw each other a few times. I deeply miss my friend.

April 7th marks the 15th anniversary of Christy's passing from CF (Sepsis) and there hasn't been a year that I forgot. But to be honest, if it wasn't for the 2010 film 'Listen To Your Heart ' I wouldn't have wrote anything. You can currently watch the film on Netflix.

The film touched my soul and it reminded me of when I went through 6 months of chemo therapy back in 2011 due to having stage 4 non-hodgkin's lymphoma from my anti rejection medication due to my double lung transplant in Sept 2010. I wished I had a friend by my side. 

The main character (Danny) in the film was so lucky to have someone care for him the way his girlfriend did. Heck, even if they were just friends, he still was the luckiest guy in the world. But. . it's a movie and I realize life isn't a fairy tale.

(2000)

I received the call that Christy had passed away from my camp friend Jim Binkley (non CFer) on Sunday, April 8th 2001 around 6 PM ET. I was in shock. I hadn't talked to Christy for nearly 9 months and I didn't know that she was sick or in the hospital. Wednesday, April 11th 2001 at 10:45 AM ET was her funeral. A service was held and Christy was cremated. I did attend.

I woke up at 5 AM and Jim came to pick me up at 8 AM. Before Christy's funeral that morning, we headed to the funeral home around 9:15 AM because he wanted to stop and grab a funeral pamphlet for someone who couldn't attend her funeral. I have no clue who that individual was. Ann Marie Jewell was the only other CFer to attend, along with her Mom. It was nice to see the both of them again.

I remember Jim's exact words once we stepped inside the doors.

"Do you want to go inside and see Christy, she's still here?"

I took a deep breath in and said. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Jim and I walked up to Christy and I remember telling him, even in death, she still looked beautiful. I remember trying to hold back the tears as my eyes watered, and I did. My stomach was turning, and just like the time I went and visited Christy on March 4th 2000, I was nervous.

Jim told me he'd be back in a bit.

I hadn't seen Christy in 11 months, but I knew what Jim did. He was giving me my private time to say goodbye to her, in my own way. Jim and I were the only two people in the funeral home, besides the funeral home director, who graciously gave me time alone to be with Christy. I knew this was my time and I would never have it again.

I slowly walked closer to Christy with my hands clasped behind me. I remember shaking my head sideways and whispering softly to Christy, as the gates opened and tears flowed down my face.

"I can't believe this is happening. It just seemed like 11 months ago we were chasing each other around the school yard. I was pushing you on the swing and you were giggling. I was just holding you. .  saying how happy I was to see you after 3 years. Chris. .  it wasn't suppose to be like this. I was the one who was suppose to go first, remember?"

All I could hear in the funeral home was silence. For the very first time in 6 years, I couldn't hear her breathe, she wasn't struggling to breathe due to her diseased and damaged lungs. Her chest wasn't struggling to move up and down. She wasn't coughing. She was quite. .  my world was quite.

I knew for the next 15 minutes, this was it. I needed to say goodbye on my own, just the two of us. Together. I held her cold hands. I never wanted to let go. This time though, she wasn't there to wipe away my tears, as she did back on March 4th 2000, the last time I saw her. I cried on that day, because yet again, I was leaving her. She said to me on the drive back to her house.

"Don't cry (with a smile on her face), you'll make me cry."

I looked over and she had a tear down her left cheek.

Christy and I were just friends, but I always thought of us as special friends. I always enjoyed our conversations. I could do something nice for her and even if it was something small, or large, her appreciation said it with her smile.

March 4th 2000 I said a lot to Christy face to face that I had wanted to say through the years, and looking back, I'm so glad that I did. I'm so glad I was able to see her smile. I was so glad to call her my friend. I cared for her.

     ' The Stable Song ' by Gregory Alan Isakov w/ lyrics

Remembering Christy 15 Years Later Part II

My favorite picture of Christy.

I walked over to the bulletin board and I remember saying the following.

"I missed out on so much of your life, and I'm truly and deeply sorry."

I just wanted to hug her, hold her, and tell her everything was going to be ok. I didn't want to leave the funeral home. I just wanted to stay until she woke up from her sleep. In reality, I  knew that wasn't going to happen. 

Christy and I never had any pictures together, and I remember thinking how all her friends were so lucky to have pictures of her with them included.

She laid there peaceful and all I could do was think of the good times we had together. It has been 15 years, but I still remember what she was wearing. She was wearing a baby blue top. Her hair was exactly as it is above, blonde with a reddish tint and same hair style as well. A cross with beads was clasped in her hands. At the funeral (along with a lot of other people), I placed a stuffed Tigger toy in her casket, because she loved Tigger and Winnie The Pooh.

15 years later I still remember those 15 minutes that Jim gave me to say my final goodbye. It was with no one around, and a downpour of tears.

Thank you Jim. (RIP: 10-26-06).

After a tragic event, there always seems to be the aftermath. After Christy passed away, I had such a hard time sleeping at night off and on for the next 3 years. All I could do is picture her face and think of her. Sometimes I would hear noises in my head and it just kept me up. Sometimes I'd be seconds away from falling asleep, then I'd hear a whisper or someone saying something. Eventually. .  all that went away.

It took me 6 years just to be able to say her name, think of her, and not actually cry. What helped during those years? Making blogs and web pages. I had made a website via Geocities (remember that back in the day?) 6 months after she passed away. I kept the pages up and started typing blogs. I actually found that website, and since Geocities is no longer around, the page might look funny and some links don't work due to the service no longer in use, including music. 

At the end of this, I enclosed Christy's Memorial from October 2001, 6 months after she passed away. 

Writing blogs etc is therapeutic for me, and cheaper. :)

These glamour shots were taken several months before Christy died.

During those six years there were many times I'd just plop myself on the floor with my back against my bed and ball my eyes out as I went through pictures of Christy at 3 AM in the morning. There was no grave site (since Christy was cremated), so I couldn't just drive over an hour and a half and talk to her. I had nothing of hers. There was no physical presence left, and that hurt me and made me depressed throughout those 6 years.

I'd actually pray that I would dream of Christy, just so I could feel what it was like to be around her again. Not just that, but to have a physical conversation with her.

This is actually going to be the first time I mention this, but thanks to a certain individual, they helped me move on, and they never knew it. With a tear, I'm sad to say this person is no longer in my life. I'm a firm believer if you're not like other individuals, than those people don't want anything to do with you. Period.

The person that came back into my life was a CFer from CF Camp, and they actually were the one that introduced me to Christy back in July 1995. I was very hesitant to see this person at first, thinking I would never see them again, which was a very common thing that occurred at CF Camp. You left your friend(s) and some you never saw again, due to them dying or they just didn't return to camp. I was afraid of not seeing this person ever again.

We had a great time together, but in the coming weeks and months, things just fell through, and to be honest, I just wasn't good enough for them as a friend. So what do you do? There's nothing you can do. They just move on, toss you to the side, and go on with their life. I've learned that's the way people are, especially ones who have walls. I guess that's the motto of today's society, just move on.

It broke my heart 15 years ago to see my friend at the funeral home before she was moved to the church for her funeral services. It crushed me at her funeral, knowing I'd never see her again. Something happened to me after Christy died, and I haven't been the same since, and I know I'll never be what I was before her death.

2007 I thought my life would change for the better, to get back into contact with a CF friend, to become friends with her again. From that experience, I've learned not to get excited about anything in life, because if you do (at least for me), there's going to be a dark cloud right behind that happy cloud. You want to know the real sad part? I don't think some people realize what or how they make other people feel, without knowing what they're doing.

In 1995 or 1996 Christy wrote me the following in one of her letters. She told me she would never stop talking to me, and that she'd always care and be my friend.

The main character Danny in the movie 'Listen To Your Heart' said it best toward the end of the film to his girlfriend.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

I look back on that letter that Christy wrote and wonder. . . .  how come all the people that care aren't here anymore?

   ' Heart Like Yours ' by Willamette Stone w/ lyrics
   (from the 2014 motion picture soundtrack If I Stay)

Remembering Christy 15 Years Later Part III

For the past 3 years I've had two dreams that were the same. I dream about a blonde girl in a lovely and breathtaking white dress near a creek. She's near a large tree and there are about 4-5 kids running around the tree, about 30 feet away from her. 

Where am I in this dream? I'm on top of a small hill next to a bench standing up and just watching her, as she slowly walks along the edge of the creek. The grass is Ireland green, with no weeds or dandelions in sight.

Now you see why I love benches, because I think of Christy anytime I'm near one.

In both dreams, I never walked down near her, which she's about 500 feet away from me. I don't know who the girl is, but I can only guess it's Christy. She's the only girl I ever dream about in my sleep. I can see her face, but at a distance, and I can't make out who it is.

Since I'm extremely sensitive to noises, it was so peaceful. No loudness, no being jolted by noises that rattle me. In my dream, whatever place this is, I was so relaxed and at peace.

This is a place I would love to be. One day I hope to get back there in my dreams and finish the story. Maybe it's just my brain playing mind games, but whatever it is, and whatever it takes, I'll get back there.


Here we are 15 years later and I still think of her during the day, at night, and in my dreams. That won't change until I die, and sometimes life's plans don't work out, as she left before me. Somehow, someway, I'm still here, but maybe. . .  just maybe. .  I'll embrace her once again.

Until we meet on that bench.

Christy's Memorial from October 2001

My playlist of songs that remind me of Christy

Christy's Poetry that she wrote to me (site from Oct 2001)

                        PROMISE by Ben Howard
   (from the 2014 motion picture soundtrack If I Stay)