Memoirous

A while back I posted True Love and True Love Will Go On . It has now been a year since Don Hill passed (February 13 th ). This time last year I was finishing up my bike ride in Florida, Jacksonville – Key West. I had Don in my thoughts as I rode. I had health, I was fit, I had the gumption to ride over 550 miles. I was hyper-aware of my own mortality and how it is a fleeting thing. I loved being alive to the sun, the flower, the palm trees, the slate blue ocean. I wished Don could have seen it. Still missing you.

A little over 3 months ago I wrote True Love . I’m sorry to write that over the weekend, Valentine’s Day weekend, time ran out . A good friend lost his struggle with cancer. He was a father, husband, musician, dreamer. And, this seems so unfair. Of course if it were fair it would be rationale, make all sorts of sense, and most likely have resolution. Instead, I am lost for words, without the mental capacity to imagine, and there is certainly many unanswered questions. Most of all: why? On your journey Don Hill, I wish you well. I wish you synthesizers and electronic soundscapes, McDonald’s at Wilson and Sheridan, and long conversations in the lobby while waiting for the school bus, or in the dining room with Jude at your feet holding a blue train called Thomas. I wish you God’s speed, whatever that is, and good luck, whatever that may be. But, most of all, I wish you were here.

Thanks for these gray hairs Thanks for these weird discolored spots (liver marks?) Thanks for my thunder thighs— They help me to climb the stairs Thanks for wind in my pipes (to climb the stairs) Thanks that I can sing Thanks that I sing badly Thanks for stretch marks Thanks for a great big ass Thanks for the gaps in my teeth because without these teeth I would never be able to Eat Little Debbie Nutty Bars, Hot Tamale candy, and those addictive restaurant-style tortilla chips. Thanks for the flab under my arms— they’re like little bat wings! Thanks that I’m not dead. Thanks for one more day to dance naked.