Jay Boyd

Jay Brady Boyd.

Man, I wish this were a birthday blog…. Jay Brady Boyd~ Sept. 5, 1973-April 23, 1991. Almost 20 years. It’s engraved in my head, and in my heart.

I met Jay in middle school. We ran in the same group of kids and we were friends. In high school, we became closer… but it wasn’t til our Junior year that I talked to him everyday, learned so much about him… that I can’t forget, and began to rely on him as someone I could lean on.

My friend Jay, was smart, quick, and wickedly funny. He was very dark, always had been, but could brighten your day with a smile, a roll of his eyes, or a facial expression. When he was in a bad mood, everyone knew, you better run. He could slide from happy, to sad, to mad in no time at all. There were so many sides to him that people weren’t always privy to. He had a heart of gold, and would literally give you the shirt off his back if he trusted you. I was going through a hard time, and he would drive back and forth with me to Baytown to go see my boyfriend for a couple of hours and then go back with me. Taking up his time, so I wouldn’t be driving alone. Those trips he always kept me in stitches or near tears, whatever the mood may have been… but he definitely struck a cord with me. I began to really know Jay, and I was letting him know me. I remember driving home from the movies one night and going under the bridge from the AMC… he saw a homeless person and a child under the bridge. He stopped the car and gave them $100 bill. He also told me there was a gun in his glove compartment and that I was to use it if he got in trouble. I was alarmed and I did ask him why he had a gun, he gave me that “don’t be stupid” look and said it was for protection. I totally believed him. There was no reason not to.

I would sit with Jay, a lot of nights, on top of my car, or in his car with the top down, radio on, talking and talking and talking. We were both going through problems. But as “depressed” as he was…I would have called it being a teenager. We were all having problems. He was so sarcastic, witty, and funny. He had so much going for him. I don’t say that lightly… he was a genius with music. He wrote music, he played music, he made drum major. He was incredibly smart- National Honor Society smart. He would have gotten into almost any college, more than likely with a scholarship. People looked up to him… I have no doubt at all that he would have been something special…b/c he already was special.

So what happened April 23, 1991???? How many times have I asked myself this question?? What could I have done? What happened? Who did this to him? What happened? Why???? What happened? Why didn’t we know? What happened?? It doesn’t matter anymore. It just is. I go back and forth being sad and being mad. I was so mad I burned all his pictures one year, and I was so sad I cried and cried and cried til I had no tears left. It took me awhile to feel anything. I went numb. But man, when they caught up… it wasn’t fun.

I think what bothers me the most now… was just thinking about him being alone. How alone he must have felt. BUT….he didn’t have to be alone. He could have called a dozen people. There were a lot of people who loved him. Everyone has problems. Everyone wants to give up sometimes… but they don’t. I have no doubt that he would be very successful now, have someone to call his own, be with his family, have lots of friends, and be in some major city like New York, Miami, San Francisco, or Los Angeles doing what he loved best… music.

Suicide is never the answer. It’s selfish, stupid, harmful to all those around you that you love, and really solves nothing. In fact, for so many of us that are left to pick up the pieces of ourselves, it makes more problems. And to be honest… if he hadn’t done what he did, in five years time all the problems that he thought were so awful… wouldn’t have been problems any more. Man, I wish I could have imparted some of that wisdom on him. But when you’re in pain… words of wisdom don’t really help… especially when you’re a teenager.

Jay~ I miss you, I love you, and I wish you were still here. There’s not many days that for some reason or other you don’t float thru my mind. I’m mad as hell at you, and I wish I could hug your neck and make cracks about where we were and where we are now. I hope you have peace. I hope you got what you were looking for. I know I’ll see you again. I know it.

Christi