Cargo ships and railway trains.
Hi Dan. You are a great man. Thanks for everything.
Oh the Puget Sound.
On Sunday morning, October 31st, less than eight hours after rescuing the deaf squinty-eyed puppy and shooting bad photos of lovable costumed assholes running amok at the 6th Street Warehouse's Halloween party, we flew up to Seattle, Washington.
We came up to attend the memorial service for Andy Kotowicz.
It was a hard trip.
For almost a month now I've been grappling with what to say about Andy's death, if anything. I haven't quite been able to get my head around it. Until doing so, however, writing about anything else feels terribly trivial. Which is why I haven't been bothering to post any new brogz lately.
Hi Chiquita. You are a sweet, annoying tiny dog.
I've contended with a lot of death in my lifetime; everything from undetected heart murmurs to suicides, murders, unintended & intentional overdoses, terminal illnesses, freak accidents, and just simple old age and natural causes.
As much as life is an exercise in learning how to live, it also has an awful lot to do with learning how to deal with death, grieving the departed, and getting past the horror of losing our loved ones. Learning how to honor and celebrate the passing of the people with whom we share our lives... can take a lifetime to figure out.
*[Yes, that's a chinchilla in a miniature hammock. Lame.].
Hi Tammy, thanks for coming to Seattle. I really appreciated your being there.
Hi Missy. I think of you every day. You were a great kid and an excellent sister.
In my experience, one of the principle dilemmas that makes reconciling death so damn difficult is the realization that you'll never get to say "hello", "thank you", "I love you", or "goodbye" to that person again.
We have memories, sure. But it just isn't the same as having the heart, the hands, the eyes, the laughs, and the shared experiences that can only be had with a person while he or she is here in the now.
Jonathan Harry Weinberg was in town playing drums for Le Sera. Mahtzah, it was good to see you. More than you know.
That's how you do it.
In some ways this post probably doesn't say enough. In other ways it probably says too much. Simply put, Andy Kotowicz was one of the good ones. He really was. Our thoughts and hearts are with his wife and daughter, family, friends, and coworkers.
It is now dawn on Sunday, November 28th, 2010. Thanksgiving has come and gone. It is time to finally get some rest and then rise to rejoin the living.
Be well, love