Death & Dignity - Help Bring Him Home

Rourke Maxwell Sparks 1985-2019

On a random Saturday night in my early twenties, I walked into STYXX Nightclub in Portland, Maine. My eyes instantly locked onto this tall, handsome guy I have never seen before. He had a sparkle in his eyes and jawline like no other – so as one would imagine, there was an instant moth to flame attraction.

We were young - we were wild. We both had feral souls trapped behind eyes that have seen both beauty and pain. He came with warning labels. He came with major baggage. He was crass and loud with red flags waving proudly - BUT he was real, he was raw, he was not your average anything – and I loved that about him.

 Rourke’s life was not a fairytale with some happy ending. He had an abusive mother who kicked him out as a teenager for being gay. Around the same time his father committed suicide. Rourke had no family and took to the streets, homeless, in pure survival mode. When I first met him, I slowly discovered this and all I could think about was how much this young man fiercely needed love. He needed protection. He made an impression on me in a way few ever have and likely ever will. I believe in people – it’s what I do. And with all my heart, I truly believed in Rourke.

Within the first week I had my first real life awakening regarding extreme loneliness and poverty. Here I was with solid housing, all the belonging one needs and most of all - reciprocated love by a family who adores me. He would repeatedly remind me how fortunate I was and truly helped put my life into perspective. He would observe my interactions with my family and sometimes I would catch him staring, in which he would quickly look away - just not quick enough to hide a sniffle or tear being wiped from the corner of his eye. He longed for family - his soul craved it.

During that first week we met, we hung out nearly every day. He made mention about his love for music, how someday he would love to buy a guitar. Afterwards I went home, brought mine to him and gave it to him. He was floored, completely speechless (which was rare for him). The joy that filled him was incredible and instantly he took to writing songs. In fact, he even wrote me one that I thankfully have recorded. Rourke carried that guitar with him everywhere he went and it was beautiful.

One of the last phone calls we had together he reminded me of the time we curled up and fell asleep next to a fireplace together. For me, sleeping near a fireplace was second nature – for him, as he told me - this was one of the most magical experiences of his life. I remember that night so vividly, the light shining off his face, the glimmer in his eyes, combing my fingers through his hair.... He was truly at peace in that moment and fell asleep with a smile in my arms.

Rourke was extremely high energy - until he was held. He would then relax, he would calm, he would soften. Nothing made me happier than to see this. 

My family eventually ended up taking him in for holidays and large events. My parents bought him Christmas gifts (yes, some even came from Santa) and on Thanksgivings he would leave my mothers house with not only hugs but also bags of leftovers. During our last discussion, he made mention to those holidays – as he was sniffling on the phone with me at 1am while sleeping under a bridge that night, he told me those were the first times in his life that he had ever shared a holiday with a family that loved him. He told me he wished he could teleport back to those moments...

Eventually things clicked and I decided to go all in – to try and save him. I felt he needed to just get away, to start anew. We packed up a car and drove out west with other friends. He came to live with me in Colorado. We shared great laughter and adventures together. As time went on we eventually parted ways but all in good standing - we always stayed in touch and had the utmost respect for one another.... and every holiday he would eagerly await an invite he knew was coming. 

Let's get real with one major thing though – Rourke was often difficult and did stupid shit. But we all have. We all do. The only difference between him and the majority of us – is that Rourke never had a family member to fall back on, he had minimal healthy support and no permanent place to call home. During his lowest of low times he would just sob hysterically and tell me that all he ever wanted was a family. All he ever wanted was to be loved. He could never understand why he was given such horrible circumstances throughout life...To this day I can still hear those words, still hear him pray for love and it honestly breaks my heart.

Over the past few years he gave up. Rourke left Maine and embarked on a journey around the country. He had unmedicated illnesses that would eventually contribute to his death. The very last time we talked, I talked him off a ledge, quite literally. In my heart though, I knew it was over. He had spiraled too far, he was not listening to reason – instead it seemed as if he was saying goodbye. I tried to save him but as I learned from a young age – you can only help save someone as much as they are willing to save themselves. In the end, he gave up...but I understand why. One can only take so much pain before they break. Nobody should have to go through such hell. 

His body currently resides in New Orleans. He has no next of kin. Nobody to claim his body - and I will be damned to see him forgotten. This downward spiral was not a reflection of who he was, who was trapped inside. I know the true man and he was kind, he was sincere, he made me gifts, sang me songs and he loved with all his heart. 

His best friend Lydia (who is honestly a rock star, salt of the Earth human) have sought out help and have a path to get him home to us - but we need money to help with legal fees, cremation, either flight or delivery to receive his ashes and a celebration of life gathering (in which you are encouraged to attend). In many ways Rourke's life was a living example of what so many of us work tirelessly to prevent happening to someone. I have no idea if this limit will cover all the expenses or not, but anything over what we are seeking will be donated to local services. I promise that.

I love you Rourke Maxwell Sparks. Goodnight you prince of Maine, you king of New England.
See you on the other side....xo

“Heartbreak opens onto the sunrise. For even breaking is opening and I am broken I am open. Broken to the new light without pushing in open to the possibilities within pushing out. See the love shine in through my cracks. See the light shine out through me. I am broken. I am open. I am broken open. See the love light shining through me, shining through my cracks, through the gaps. My spirit takes journey, my spirit takes flight, could not have risen other wise. And I am not running I am choosing. Running is not a choice from the breaking. Breaking is freeing. Broken is freedom. I am not broken. I am free.”