Anger, denial … etcetera etcetera. What are the four stages one is meant to go through in dealing with tragedy, according to some pop-psych pantload or other? I can’t be bothered to look it up right now. Let’s just say “…inebriation and distraction” to round off the quartet, shall we?
For someone who has experienced, if not more than his fair share, then at least a not insignificant number of deaths in his small family over the years (father, brother, all the grandparents, step-father, and more, all before I was 25, for goodness sakes), the loss of my old friend Rick hit me much harder than I could have expected. In the decade or so since I’ve lost anyone really close, I’d come to think that I’d grown blasé about dying. Apparently I was wrong.
Going back to Canada for the first time in 5 years over the past few weeks, though, wandering around British Columbia, seeing old friends and what’s left of my close family, drinking a bit, listening to and telling old stories : this has been good. I have a lot of old letters and cards to reread, and a lot of memories to dust off and cherish, and I look forward to coming back to writing on this site with renewed enthusiasm and a richer sense of who I am and what I want. I’ve spent far too long running from my past, glorious and madcap as much of it has been, and I’m beginning to realize that I am an imitation of a man without it.
I mildly regret announcing a month or two back, when I put this site on hiatus, that I wanted to refocus it somehow, to use it to do some good in the world. That desire remains unchanged, but I’m aware now that it’s not the site that needs purpose, it’s me. And with that awareness will come, I hope, some decent writing, some worthwhile ranting, and a site that people will want to visit again.
And some more fart jokes, of course.
To friends old and new who only became aware of the ‘bottle during the tragedy in October : I’m returning to the catch-all journal-weblog format that is the normal thing ’round here. This site was not created specifically to honour Rick, it was pre-empted, and although the tributes and laments will remain, here, it is time for me to move on. I hope you’ll understand.