boat ride

and then you are gone.

it's coming up on that point when you and i would have talked by now, unless you were out of the country, or in between places, or recording. or just didn't talk. or just didn't run into each other. or just didn't. but then it's coming up on that time, where one of us would have called to say, why haven't i seen you in like forever. 

David Blair, photo by David Lewinski

people don't really know what to do for you when you're grieving. there's not much that can be done, really. but sometimes it's just nice to have someone sit with you. i remember the summer after my father died, which was not long after my mother died, and i broke up with my boyfriend of a few years (who was also a close friend of yours. i never told you how much i appreciated you being objective about things.). and things were heavy with me. probably the heaviest they've ever been.

and one sunday you dragged me out of the house to go on a riverboat ride with a progressive church group headed by a queer pastor that you were playing music for. and i remember you played a tom waits' gospel song for the church group. and i'm pretty sure you also played "when the saints go marching in", and i hope i'm not just thinking that because they played it at your memorial, and the whole boat rocked with you and everybody sang and it was so loving. and then we ate spaghetti out of aluminum serving tubs. and we took the salad and chicken wings, and it tasted warm in the heart, the way church food made by church ladies always tastes. and i remember after the crowd dispersed and people went back to sit with their families, and i stared out over the detroit river and you stared out with me for awhile. and then we just looked at each other for a long time. and i finally said "my mother always wanted me to go on one of these boatrides with her, but i wouldn't go with her because i thought they were cheesy. i'm really regretting that right now." and you didn't say anything for awhile. we just kept looking at each other and out at the water. and then finally, you laughed real hard. and you said "they are kind of cheesy."

and we laughed for a long time and then just kept watching the river go by.

thank you for that day, my friend. thank you for so many days like it.

i miss you so much.