Gareth Lochhead, I’ll miss you forever

This morning I sat down at my computer and logged into facebook to see that the world had lost one of the kindest souls I have ever had the pleasure of being able to call my friend. My heart hurts terribly, for his loss is so unexpected, so early, too soon, and I ache for words unsaid. Why, why hadn’t we caught up recently? Why, why haven’t I seen you in oh, so long. I always thought I’d see you again! But as my heart breaks, I must say how much I cared for this man, a person whom I am so, so very, very proud and glad to say, I knew him, he was my friend! And to express just how much I will miss him.

I met Gareth Lochhead in Tokyo in August of 2004. He was bound for Nara, just as I was. I introduced him to my husband; neither my husband, nor I realizing how we had just met one of our best friends. On our Shinkansen ride to Nara, Gareth and I were talking when he instigated the conversation that I have repeated I don’t know how many times in my life. Basically, he and I went back and forth talking about how neat it was, that all the people on our JET programme, here in Japan to teach English, were from all these amazing countries all over the world. He said, “You’ve got us Kiwis, the guys from South Africa, the Brits, the… Americans…” As he says Americans, he takes his hands, which had been on his lap this whole time, and waves them up in the air, making a crazy gesture. I laughed and waved my hands and said, “Us Americans, sure crazy, huh?” His face paled and he stammered, “Oh– Uh, no, I didn’t mean– well, I–” To which I remember throwing back my head and laughing heartily. He tried to apologize, and I waved it off. But he’d already made me determined to prove that all us crazy Americans weren’t all that bad, and I hope I did I good job. But I will say this, and Corey is asking me to add, behind me as I write this, that he had the crappiest imitation of an American accent we’ve ever heard, but we’d have him do it whenever he would, and we’d all be in stitches.

The next event I remember well was the Nara Tokae Lantern festival, later that month, when the rest of the group ditched us three, and we wandered about, the three of us, waving our lanterns back and forth. One of us caught theirs on fire, I’ll never tell who, and as we stomped it out in the grass in Nara Park, then looked around guiltily, one of us shouted, “Run for it!” And we ran away, laughing.

Gareth didn’t get his internet hooked up right away, and couldn’t call home that often, so he’d call us a lot those first months as we were all getting used to being in this new land. We’d talk about home, school, life, and how to change the bags in the sink drain. He’d always ask for advice. I’d never really had anybody ask me for advice before then. We’d talk and talk. He told me I was his “big American sister”. I laughed and said, “I’m a bit sensitive about my weight, how about ‘big sister who’s American’”. He floundered about for an apology until I laughed and said I was kidding. He was always so careful to be authentic, to tell people how he cared about them, and was so sensitive to other’s feelings.

Random memories, all of the Takatori Thursdays when he’d come all the way down to our place and we’d indoctrinate him with all of our taste in movies and music. Many weeks he was the only attendee for Takatori Thursday, but we didn’t mind, we had a great time. I remember the three of us watching Super Troopers together, him disinterested as Corey and I laughed our asses off, but then we got to the “Mother of God” line, and for the rest of the time I knew him, he’d break out with a “Mother of God”, in that slow intensely sarcastic voice, every once in awhile. I remember us watching Chappelle show, and he loved the Samuel L. Jackson skit, “No I can’t stop yelling, Cause that’s how I talk!” Basara Matsuri! Oh my goodness, days of dancing and training. If you know me, I’m not the most fit of people, but I was darned sure I was gonna dance and be in that parade, and Gareth was there to cheer me on. Corey, Gareth, and I, along with more of our JET and Japanese friends danced our way through a week and then down the streets of Nara, paint on our faces, bandannas on our heads. He was fantastic, as he always was. Starbucks! We’d meet in the Starbucks in Nara and drink coffee and talk religion and politics. He was such a wordsmith, and we’d laugh and have such a great time.

And, then the most poignant of all my Gareth memories coming to mind tonight, the karaoke memories… one in particular. First year, a big group of us, God, I can’t even remember who all was there, and we sang, “The Rose”. The music wove into all of us, and it grew, a living thing. I remember catching his eye in the midst of it, we were all in the middle of one of those moments, of which there are few in life, when it was all sliding into the magic. As it ended, and that last note softly died, we all sat there a moment and Gareth was the first to speak, “Did you guys feel that, that was amazing!!” I grinned back at him. For the rest of our time in Japan, he’d always cue up The Rose in the Karaoke queue. But we never got that magic moment again, no matter how he tried. It was one of those things that you have to grab onto, and save in your heart, for it will never happen that same way, ever again. But ever since then, whenever I have heard that song, I think of Gareth. Corey and I stood here, tonight, and listened to the Rose, and said our goodbyes to you as tears streamed down our faces, our wonderful friend in time.

When Corey left Japan, two months before me, we had a goodbye party for him. Gareth came, of course, but it wasn’t enough for him. We had a separate, “Saying goodbye for Corey and Gareth” day, he came over and we hung out for hours, talking, laughing, drinking, watching TV, just knowing that it would never be the same again.

I left Japan at the end of July that year. Many of my Japanese friends came with me to the airport, and, of course Gareth. I have no pictures of this day. I knew he did. I kept forgetting to ask him for copies of the pictures. He and I stood overlooking the Kansai terminals, reminiscing. Me planning to visit New Zealand, him promising to come visit us in Florida. He thanked me for being the best “crazy American” that he’d ever met. Tears in my eyes I hugged him tight and told him to, “Shut up, silly Kiwi!”

The last time I saw Gareth was too long ago. I came back to Japan for a week to see my students graduate. He and I met, laughed, drank, and hugged. He then presented me with two necklaces from New Zealand, one green, one black; one for me and one for Corey. I will forever be angry at myself for not remembering the exact cultural significance, but he gave them to me with great sanctity and meaning, and I thanked him deeply and put the green one on. I am looking at it across the room on my jewelry board. I think I’ll wear it for awhile. I took one last picture with him, then gave him a giant hug and left for my next appointment on that busy week.

My heart hurts as I laugh in my tears at all these memories. I wanted to see him again, he always promised he’d come visit Florida and I’d take him to the dunes and we’d talk politics and religion over the Atlantic ocean.

Gareth, I promise you, wherever I go, I will carry my memories of you in my heart. I still want to see New Zealand, the beautiful land you spoke of with passion and I thought you would show us around. I will go to your beloved Christchurch and wander amongst the places I think you would have shown me. I want to see your smiling face, and hear one of your, admittedly, terrible jokes. For you, I will sing The Rose absolutely every time I karaoke, for the rest of my life, always looking for the magic that you were still searching for. And, if I feel it, I will know it is you, there with me, in the room, and I will laugh as see you in my mind’s eye, waggling your hands, “Americans…”

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you it’s only seed.

It’s the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It’s the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It’s the one who won’t be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dyin’
That never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun’s love
In the spring becomes the rose.