Grief is not like any other emotion, it is a non-mutable feeling that begins at the heart and comes out one's eyes. The stages are all over the place, even though I know them, they still surprise me. Anger seems to be one that creeps up, and when I realize that I am not angry because of someone or something, I realize it's just the stage I am in. The anger comes from the impossibility of making a connection to the transcendent from the material world, believing there is a connection may be a delusion. We know, when someone is gone, there is no material connection with them even though we try, the only exception is by association. We have memories of that person, a gift, a song, or in my case the movie Top Gun, Lou called me Maverick because I am a bit of a non-conformist when it comes to the status quo, especially in church. But, because of our mutual love of going fast on my catamaran, over the years, I could call or text and quote a famous line from the movie "I feel the need..." undoubtedly the other would answer "...the need for speed!" Those memories stick out in my mind, especially since he eventually embraced his nickname "Iceman" because of our friendship. Back on Memorial Day last year, we went sailing and then watched Top Gun Maverick that evening. We loved the movie especially because of the sailing scene, but I remember saying to him when movie Iceman died, "don't die on me dude." Life is stranger than fiction, 111 days later he would be gone. In the past few years, he changed my nickname to "Viper" because we liked the character better for me than Maverick. I would get a lot of calls and texts, Vipe... or Viper. It never got old, and now it is over.
My sailboat has sat untouched since our last Memorial Day sail, I know I need to get back out there, but the sail is still rolled up and the gear still stowed exactly how we left it. A few months ago I traded my guitars in for a higher-end Taylor, last night I went back and thankfully my old classical Taylor was still there in stock, it's back home with me now. The very first song I played last night was "give me Jesus" which is what I played as Lou left this world. I held that guitar last night, so grateful to have it back, it is a connection to my friend, even if only by association. My friend completed his journey home six months to this day. As the final moments of his life entered into the transcendent place, by request of his daughter, I brought my Taylor classical guitar with me to the hospital, leaving it in his room for the final moments when I would play softly in the operating room where the staff of doctors, surgeons, and nurses would wait reverently for the first nurse, then a second to call time of death after removing him from life support so that my friend's first act in the afterlife was to donate his organs. We had to scrub up, and because I am literally so big, there wasn't anything that would fit me, I guarantee you he would have laughed because, in my too-small scrubs, I looked like a fat version of the incredible Hulk.
Getting that guitar back last night was important, I thought about it often, I didn't realize at the time, how much that guitar was a last connection to the Iceman.
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