I called Erin one day and told her my ideas of taking each article and having an audio file associated with it.  Have I mentioned that she’s been wanting me to do audio files forever — and that I hate doing them?

The difference being, she just wanted me to do some like she does, about life in general and exactly what I’m thinking at the time I press record — and I still hate doing them.  I do think they’ll be a nice touch to the website though and will help explain aspects of the book.

So, yes, I’ll suck it up and walk it off.

—

As a lot of you know, on April 26th [yes, last month] a man that I was seeing died. His name was Timothy Stevenson  Yeaw.

I walked into his apartment and he was unresponsive.  It was the first time I had ever employed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and CPR, even though I had been trained in it.  I urge you to learn CPR if you don’t already know it. I also recommend that you invest in one of those masks for mouth-to-mouth.

My friend of decades, Dan Pecora, found some masks that are attached to a key chain [which is a brilliant idea] that he’s going to send me the name of when he remembers.  When he does, I’ll post it here as well.  Get one.

Tim was good to me and we had a harmonious relationship.  He was a protector by nature, a phenomenal singer and loved me enough to make me homemade white hot chocolate every week.  Until I met him, I didn’t even know such a thing was possible.  I thought that was simply Dunkin Donut’s purpose for existing down the street from us.

He asked me to marry him back in the beginning of February.

He had a lot of admirable qualities.  Soon I’ll be writing about him because I want to do him justice, especially since he was given the WORST eulogy that I’ve ever heard in my entire life.  I was horrified by it.  He deserved far better and I intend to right that wrong.

I also learned exactly how terrible people can be during a time like this.  I’m telling you flat out that I’ve never been so disgusted by a portion of a group of people – ever.  Listen to me, that’s disgraceful.  Don’t do that.  Ever.

Grief does not give you license to be an asshole.

I’ve heard the expression that “wakes and funerals are about, and for, the living” – often.  I’m here to tell you, no.  They are, indeed, very much about honoring the dead and should be conducted in a manner that doesn’t degrade into the living becoming jackasses in the process.  I have no idea what is wrong with some people.

As irony would have it, in Tim’s death – he actually granted me 9 gifts that I’ve concluded.  Knowledge/wisdom that never could have come about any other way.  It all came at a terrible cost, but what he left me with is invaluable.  For that, I will always be grateful to him.  I’ll get to some of those things at some other point too.

He left behind some wonderful sons and his sister Sheri, who I absolutely adore.  Sheri is going through a little bit of a hard time at the moment, so if you happen to do the whole prayer thing – it would be appreciated if you slip her name in.

Tim had three best friends over the course of his life:  Tim G., Mark S. and Flip.  They’ve all been great.  Flip has a daughter [Ashley] who is bright, hard-working and beautiful – I adore her too.  Her fiance, Logan, is a good man.  Kind and patient.

We had quite a few mutual friends.  We went to the same high school at one point.  I’m very thankful that there are people that truly did know him and appreciated him for his character.

It was proven to me, once again – how rich I am for having the type of friends that I do.  I’ve said many times over the last four weeks that I have the best friends in the world.  I do.  I’ve never taken that for granted and don’t suspect I ever will.

Several hundred people contacted me and expressed their thoughts, views on religion, views on death, views on life – and offered their condolences.  I can honestly say that these times also bring out the best in some people.

This whole month has been a whirlwind of events that have taken place in rapid fire succession.  None of which have been small things.  This is, of course, the consequence of life.  I’m never under the delusion that anyone leads a charmed one.

Still, as you can imagine, since then life has taken a new turn – because it’s had to.

Erin, as always, has been right there with me.  I never want to see the day when she isn’t.  She never shies away from the hard topics either that I repeatedly slam her with.

I have to admit, it’s very hard not to list people individually and tell you how much I appreciate each of them.

I went out this past Friday to meet two friends, Bill and Steve, that I’ve known for the last 28 years and my fairly new neighbor, Keith, who also went to high school with us – though I only knew him by name back then. When he asked me how he didn’t know me then, I simply told him that it was okay – it was a long time ago and I was easily forgettable.  Steve laughed and said no one would ever say that about me.  Still, it struck me as funny to say.

There was a point in time when I thought the world was a large place.  It was foolish thinking.  It really isn’t.

What started out as being a two hour get together, turned into 13 or so hours before I made it home again.  Those three could never really know what they’ve done after all these trying weeks by inviting me out.  Again, I never underestimate the importance of good friends.

I am pathologically sentimental, so those from my past naturally mean a great deal to me.  We talked about Tim.  We talked about lighter times, fun things we’ve all done together and told some stories we probably shouldn’t have.  At the end of it all, I was given yet another good story to add to my memory bank.

Thank you – Bill, Steve and Keith.

Oh, and yes, we did joke about the rapture happening that night.  Then we started drinking and forgot what time it was until it was too late and then someone said [I really think it was Keith], “Maybe they meant Mountain Time.” – and that was worth a laugh.  I hadn’t even given the rapture a first thought, let alone a second thought until that minute.
—

My house is not my own for the time being.  There have been seven people in it for the last month – and will be for at least the next two weeks.  It’s nice.  There’s life in this house; from age 2 to age 43.  I like them all.  Soon enough the quiet will set in and I’ll become reflective and start writing again with all the passion I’m meant to.  Well, passion and several pots of coffee.

I miss it.

The busy nature of so many people isn’t exactly conducive to writing and doing audio files.  It has been conducive to learning each person’s individual personality though – which I always value.