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Today was a very sad day. A small group of VOG members are on a roadtrip in Arkansas. On the ride today in a light rain only a quarter mile from our lunch stop in Jasper Phideaux (Giles) and his wife Ellen went down on their Cross Country. Ellen went to the hospital and I am sure will be physically fine. It saddens me to tell you that Phideaux slid head first into a curb and passed due to neck injuries from what they could tell. Phideaux was a wonderfully kind great guy and will be missed by many. May our Brother Rest In Peace!
 

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That is horrible! I was coming here thinking I may see a funny thing the group did and was not expecting what I read.

Having gone down on a group ride this hits really close plus I have already been dealing with a heavy loss and I think they both amplify what I am feeling right now. A real punch to the gut.
 

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Peace and Prayers to his Family.
 

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Don't know what to write....RIP and prayers for wife and Family
 

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I’m at a loss for words. This is sad news. I came to the Vog tonight to help clear my head. Wasn’t expecting to hear this. RIP Phideaux. Prayers to his family and friends.
 

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Wow. Same here, wasn't expecting this news. God be with the family and RIP @Phideaux So sad.
 

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Thanks @lou8700 for informing all of us! I have been following the groups comments on this ride in Arkansas. This is not what anyone wanted hear. Prayers for his wife and family. Prayers for you all who are currently riding that were on that. scene .....that you will have peace and resoluteness at some point.
 

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I've had this for awhile. It's not mine, I didn't write it. Sometimes it helps. I was going to post it recently for VVB but didn't get around to it.

Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at home. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.
 

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I’m saddened to see this news. My prayers go out for his family and friends.
I will miss him.
 

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Wow! So sad to hear this. Not the kind of news I wanted to wake up to. Best wishes to his wife and family.
 
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