Somewhere over the rainbow

It's Ward's birthday.

Ward died unexpectedly in 2003 after a life of much suffering but also many laughs. He had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met; he was incapable of being impatient, or angry, or too busy to talk to a friend.

If I could talk to him now, I'd say something like this:

Amigo, I hope you are out there watching and I hope you approve that I named our walk team after you, and had Indian food in your honor last night. Remember that time we had Indian food in the East Village and they forgot to de-vein your shrimp?! Remember all of the coffees, pierogies, grocery trips and the trip to the museum exhibit in Midtown when it was muggy as all hell?

Remember when you saw my cat and said he looked like a snowball plugged into a light socket? Remember how you told me, when I was whiny about some jerk, that, "Relationships are difficult, with people...as opposed to plants!"

Even when you were having such a hard time you made me laugh.

You, more than any other person, helped me become a sober person. You told me: "It's just for today."

You told me I could be a reporter - I could do it!

You helped me accept myself for who I was; helped me get through many, many a sad day and long night. I hope I told you enough how much I learned from you.

I miss you so much! And when I think of life and death and loss, as you probably know if you have been watching, I usually turn to George Harrison.

Ward, this one is for you.

Love,
Me