Listening to Brandi Carlile’s new album, In These Silent Days, ugly crying in the kitchen and all I want to do is share this beautiful music with you, pretend it’s another ‘ok’ day. Something about her voice, the fact that she wrote the album in the woods of the pacific northwest, a happy memory of walking in the woods with you, watching an eagle glide among the thermals. The songs brought the tears which drowned out some of the sadness.
And now, it’s Wednesday. The Day. I still can’t force my mind to accept your departure. Will you have a chance to read this? Who will I share music with now? How selfish to be thinking only of myself, my loss. What you’ve done over the years to live with the fucking cancer is an amazing gift. Every moment matters.
I’ll miss you so much more than words could ever say. And I can’t describe my gratitude for your incredible friendship. I’m so lucky my dad chose Claremont back in the ’90’s.
This lump in my chest reminds me that I really really really don’t know how to say the goodbye part. That’s how I ended up here, back on a screen in a WordPress site named Won’t4GetYouNotes. I do like the idea of being able to keep sharing with you.
Who knows where the energy goes. All the notes, the little snapshots, a ‘roid, the glimpses of memory when it comes to me, the inside jokes, the moments. In the process of writing them down, as they come, maybe one day I’ll become as good a writer as you.
I’ll be with you at the beach for a bit in the afternoon and you’ll be a part of me forever. I love you.