A Boy Called Spiffy

He died in September of 1995, his tomb stone is marked Jason Carey but I will always remember him by the nick-name of Spiffy. He effected my life more then anyone I have ever known. What makes me cry is the fact that no one realized how important Spiffy was to our lives until he died; including myself.

I was introduced two years ago to a boy by the name of Spiffy. He was tall at 6 foot even, and rather gangly looking at only 130 pounds, with an awkward grin that could make people smile. His shoulder length blond hair falling into his blue eyes, dressed in jeans the hid his skinny legs, but black tee-shirts with scenes from 'The Crow' movie that showed his long bone-thin arms. I didn't pay much attention to him at first, but then no one did.

It was in a group called Infinite Dimensions (I.D.) that I got to know Spiffy. I.D. meet once a week to sword fight or play role-playing games, and we didn't mind that Spiffy visited the group every single week. We all ignored him hoping the silly kid would go away, but he never did. Over time we accepted that Spiffy was there to stay, and he won us over with his crazy spontaneous dancing, and random comments and actions such as wearing a clown suit to school in the middle of May, or getting on his hands and knees submissively, asking for serious forgiveness over a trivial matter. That was Spiffy, and there where so many other things he would do to make us smile, and guaranteed with these silly ways was the fact he could always make us laugh eventually. There has never been an exact way to describe Jason Carey, that is why he got his nick name, we could find no way to describe him, and such the only word to truly describe him fully was 'Spiffy'.

I became friends with Spiffy much to my surprise. Spending time together talking about life and the world together. The rest of the group also became friends with Spiffy and he was set up as our mascot. Spiffy was an ultimate non-conformist, and did not fit into society at all. It was this goal of uniqueness we all wished to be, and why we set him up as our mascot. Spiffy gladly became our mascot, taking the job of having to be the someone in the group that would raise the groups spirits. I looked on Spiffy a bit different, not as the clown some people did, but as someone who reminded me of myself at his age. I watched him growing up and saw through him the same stages of life I went through. Stages of awakening to one's metaphysical power or supernatural/spiritual awareness, rejection from society, and acceptance of one's self worth. I was there trying to help him through these stages while he kept telling me to lighten up and go back and realize the free state I was once in, before I found a place in society.

Spiffy death was sudden and unexpected to everyone but me. He was walking to the park, to meet me for sword fighting practice one day. The park was only two blocks from his house, but while crossing the street he was hit by a car. Two days later he died in the hospital. Spiffy had lived in a fantasy world all his life, and in our role-playing group we called him a changeling. Changelings are people of the fey, or fairies that live inside humans to survive reality. Reality can causes most Changelings to die before adulthood, much like a child losing their imagination. Changelings are tied to fantasy and imagination it is what keeps them alive. I had noticed in Spiffy before his death a sadness. Reality was getting to him, in ways of having a job, and just generally being told to grow up. Where most people grow up and let the Changeling die inside of them, Spiffy could not part with that piece of his nature, and so I understood why he was taken away so young.

Everyone in I.D. felt they had been so very close to Spiffy, because they went to school with him and saw him every week at our meetings. I saw Spiffy only once a week at the I.D. meetings, so most people in I.D. felt I did not know or care for Spiffy as much as they did. No one in I.D. truly knew about the time Spiffy and I would spend together every week before the I.D. meetings. I knew Spiffy better then almost everyone in I.D., because I spent a lot of time talking with Spiffy, where the other in I.D. only associated with him. Spiffy and myself had very many things together that where ours alone, such as old fantasy based folk songs we would sing together. We would also play our card game Jyhad, another game based around fantasy. We would play rivaling vampires trying to gain control of the world and it was during these power struggles we would talk about life and the real world as we saw it.

So I suffered in silence my grief, because the others could not accept that my grief was so strong, because they did not know Spiffy and my bond had been so strong. They didn't know Spiffy and I spent anytime together other then the meeting. When I saw Spiffy's dead body in the coffin, I cried. I not only saw the wonderful person that was once Spiffy dead, I saw a part of myself. Spiffy was my son because I tried to teach him by taking him under my wing, and he was the bright shadow of myself. Where I had learned to be a dark gothic sort of person he showed me the lighter sight to everything, to laugh at the world and even to what I was. When we buried him each person in I.D. wanted to leave something behind with him in his coffin, for all he had given to us, and most of us did. I feel that each of the items we put in showed a part of Spiffy. He was buried wearing his trench-coat that we always saw him wearing, his Wicca tools at his right side representing his metaphysical religion, on his left side a stuffed gray bunny for the child that he was always. In his pocket several Jyhad cards showing the games and talks we use to have. On his feet his favorite brown suede boots, and on his chest a single yellow rose, symbolizing friendship and the love he had for all his friends.

I talk about how much Spiffy affected my life, or meant to me, but while he was alive I took it all for granted. When he died I realized how much I missed him. I canÕt go to the meeting and not hope to see Spiffy just show up one day saying, 'Ha I faked it all'. I can't sing the old fantasy folk songs without crying, the Jyhad games have little meaning behind them now. I learned in Spiffy's death the greatest lesson that he tried to teach us all in his life, 'that life is to short'. I wish in my heart that everyone had known Spiffy, and what he meant to me, it's hard to believe people do not know the person I talk about when I talk about my friend Spiffy. Spiffy was so much a part of my soul, and so I carry a part of his with me.

Jason Carey is just a person I may have known that is now buried in the ground. Spiffy however was the personification of all that was and is good, and Spiffy therefore has not died. The body of Jason Carey is dead, but all that was Spiffy lives on with his friends, and will continue to live on in the world in all our actions as good. Spiffy was for me all that was and is good in the world.