Meet Manuel Vivanco. I went to school with him from 3rd-5th grade and then we went off to different middle schools. Our friendship was lost for a few years until Facebook brought us back together in 9th grade.
From 9th grade on we would talk on a regular basis. Karate, girls, sports…you name it! He loved watching me do karate and would constantly ask me about my journey to getting my black belt and the tournaments I would compete in.
In 2012, I vividly remember being on the phone with him upset that I lost the jissen (a form of sparring in Taido Karate) championship in overtime. He told me that I did my best and that he would be at the tournament next year to watch me get first place.
The next week, I pulled into my parent’s driveway, took out my phone and got on Facebook. What happened next shocked my world.
I read a post on Manuel’s wall posted by one of our friends from school. It said “Dang bro…I can’t believe you’re gone. This isn’t real”.
My heart skipped a beat.
Gone? What? No. This is a sick joke.
I immediately went to his Facebook page and saw that hundreds of people posted “RIP” “We will miss you” “Love you, man.”
Next, I call his phone. It goes to voicemail.
I text him. No response.
Reality hits.
I walk into the kitchen and I am hysterically crying. My mom immediately runs in and asks what’s wrong. I am so traumatized I can’t get my words out. It did not seem real.
I tell you all of this to set the stage of why my karate tournaments are so important to me now. From that point forward, I dedicated my tournaments to Manuel. He is no longer with us so I promised myself I would compete and win for him.
1 year later, I had his name henna tattooed on my ribs in honor of the Karate tournament. I made it to the finals and lost. Again. I walked away from the tournament feeling defeated and let Manuel down. I promised myself I would come back the following year and win it for him.
I made it to the championship again and not only lost but I was disqualified. I had lost for the 3rd time, embarrassed my Taido school for fighting too rough and let Manuel down once again. I came away from that loss humiliated, embarrassed and angry at myself.
In this year’s tournament, I made it to the final’s once again and finally took first place after an epic match that went to double overtime. When Uchida Shihandai blew the whistle to signal I had won the match, I had to hold back my emotions. I had promised Manuel for years that I would get first place and it finally came true.
After I was awarded the trophy and my friends congratulated me, I went into the locker room, I closed the bathroom door and I cried. I cried out of happiness of winning, sadness that my friend wasn’t there to see me but most of all I cried because I finally made true on the promise I made to my friend.
You could read this and say, “This guy needs to not take Karate so seriously!” and yes…that could be argued. But promising myself I would take first place in his honor was a way to cope with his death.
The point of this story is two-fold:
Buddy…I miss you so much. I think about you often and randomly find myself with tears flooding into my eyes at the thought of you no longer being with us. I want you to know I strive to live every day like it’s my last. You had your struggles but you had such a great heart.
You are missed deeply. Thank you for your kindness, your inspiration, your love and your support. I love you, man.
It was April 16, 2012, just another day of awakening to get ready for our family to head to school and work. Kisses were given out, my husband and daughter loads up in the truck to head to school and I get in my car headed to work. Little did we know that would be the very last time that we would see our daughter….alive.
Everyone gets home about 5:45. I had gone out to the clothesline to get in a blanket that I had hung out that morning, folded it up and was sitting on the back porch steps waiting on the dog to go to the bathroom. It was then that I heard this very loud noise, looked to my left and saw a dusting of smoke. I immediately went in the house and asked my husband, who was watching TV, if he heard that terribly loud noise. I then walked in our bedroom to put away the blanket.
She was gone and there was absolutely nothing that we could do to get her back. Our lives had been shattered forever. The root of Meagan’s death was bullying…..that awful, awful word that affects more and more people each and everyday. After Meagan’s death we found out that on the bus one of her friends noticed that she was not acting like her normal upbeat self and was very quiet. Her friend then asked her if she was okay and she said she was and then exited the bus. We also found out that Meagan had texted her cousin and told her that she was going to kill herself that evening.
To this very day, I am so upset that she did not contact us. If she had, I am pretty sure I would not be typing up this story right now. Meagan was such a bubbly, spirited child who was loved by all and played the trumpet in the Oglethorpe County March Band. She now fills the Heavens with her wonderful trumpet sounds.
I can’t express enough how important it is for people to Stand Up, Speak Out and Be Heard! Be the voice that someone who is depressed or suicidal needs to hear. All lives matter!
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