


So much has gone down since that he's missed; things I wish he'd been here to share, to participate in, to giggle with me about... and to council me on.
As most of us unfortunately know, death is a wiggly phenomenon: the many phases endured before the loss becomes gentle acceptance, knowing that the presence of a

The anger subsides, the irritation of not having that touchstone ebbs and so many memories claim their place in one's collective historic consciousness. Time, thankfully, allows the best to return to the surface and the painful blank spot gradually grays—if you're lucky (as I have been)—with new friendships... constructing new history together, with the building blocks firmly in place from the dearly departed.
There will never be another Strelie, for sure. At


Today, I connected with mutual best friend Perry—not because of the occasion—but we of course acknowledged the date. As anyone who has lost a loved one or family member knows, those calendar moments stand out year after year.
This summer, I at last visited Carlton's grave in Bedford, Va., in tow with longtime pals Trixmoose, Donna Mae Moose and J.T. No tears... It was just what I had hoped for: a joyful celebration of the flamboyant, ever-positive Strele. Which is exactly how I remember him now, four years later. *





I miss him too. What wonderful words. He would have loved showing Jack NYC. So glad you did that. And that we won't let too much time go between visits. I love you honey.
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Beautiful. What a lucky, grateful friend he picked in you.Love and loss....gee whiz. I love you too. xox Lina
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful tribute...
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