Get-togethers and grief

A week ago I went to a memorial service.

I do not believe this will be a well-organized post at all, but there are things that I want to write about it, so I'm going to listen to "Kids in the Street" and "Fake Your Death" and let it be messy.

One thought is that it reminded me a lot of Josh. Both Andy and Josh did a lot of dramatic work. Andy did more sketch comedy and Josh did more plays, so I don't know that they overlapped much after high school. I don't remember any specific people that were at both, but there's also been a seven-year gap. Maybe they had mutual friends at Hollywood Lighting or something.

Still, both services were in theaters. Both were gone too soon, and were well-loved, so both leave holes. I hadn't seen either of them for a long time.

I never spent a lot of time with Andy. I knew and liked him, but our paths didn't cross much. I knew people spent time with him. My sister worked with him at 7-11, though and I hadn't known before Monday. I knew a lot of people who really loved him, so I went not just to remember Andy, but also as support for those he left behind.

That was hard. You can hug people and ask how they're doing, but they still hurt. I watched one person speak, and he did great but did break down a little. I felt for him, but then he came and sat down and his wife hugged and kissed him, and I remembered he has support. Then a little later she broke down, listening to someone else, and that's just how it goes. Grief is real.

And honestly, one of the best things about me is that I do not try to fix grief. No matter how much I know that you do get better at bearing it, and as sure as I am that I will see every departed person again, it still hurts and you have to let people feel that hurt. Often when people try and be comforting they step on that grief and try and quiet it, and people need to feel it and deal with it. But as much as I know that, and have been thanked for acknowledging that, I still totally want to fix it and I can't and it's hard.

I periodically organize gatherings. Last time I did this (in August), I remember trying to locate different people and fervently hoping that I wouldn't find out that we had lost someone else since the last time. I started thinking that maybe I should have blood pressure testing there, or provide information on quitting smoking, because we are at ages now where lifestyle changes can still make a difference, but need to be made soon. (Then I didn't because it felt like it would be hypocritical, or a turn-off, or something.)

I always stress out a lot over these. I especially worry that I don't get enough people to make it worth the while of the people who do come, so that I'm letting them down. Because of the stress, I always think that I am not going to do this again; there are other people who are better at getting people together and they should do it instead.

After Monday, seeing people from school, I suspect I will keep doing. It's nice that sometimes the last time we saw each other it was for karaoke, or '80s night, or nachos. And people do get together for death, but then there are divorces and job problems and things where we don't get together, but we still need the support. Maybe I really will try and organize a cruise for our 2025.

Those are the thoughts I have been having, minus two that I have been holding back. There was a memory book there, and people were sharing memories on Facebook as well. I didn't feel like I had anything to contribute, but there are two things that I do keep remembering. They were both watching Andy, not interacting with him, which is why they didn't feel like worthy contributions, but they keep coming back, so here goes.

One was homecoming. I didn't go to a lot of football games in high school, because the teams I managed gave me a lot of sporting events already, but I went to this one. I'm not even sure that I realized that the marching band had two leaders before, but we did: Andy and Ian (I think). I really am not even positive that it was tuxedos over their marching band uniforms or vice versa, but I'm pretty sure it was tuxedos on top. Anyway, they ran out onto the field, stripped off their outer layers, high fived each other, and then led the halftime. All the things I am unsure of sound like I don't remember it at all, I know, but what I remember is the cleverness and the cheek and the joy of it. They had fun, and the people watching had fun. The show would have been fine without it, but it made the night, at least for me.

The other was a commercial for the Portland Tribune when it was going to start being available in the suburbs. I wish I could find a clip. There is a handful of men sitting around talking slowly, rather like the beer drinkers in "King of the Hill", but instead of drinking beer in the alley they are sitting in the driveway of a row home. One of them is Andy. Most of them don't have much to say, but suddenly Andy rattles off a whole bunch of different relevant things; I just remember it ended with "And what's the deal with all the finger pointing in city hall?" (This is clever, because it sounds specific but can apply to multiple time frames.) Then he kind of takes a breath and nods, and is kind of back into somnolence like the others, only his eyes are kind of caffeinated. The point was that if you read the Tribune you will know what is going on and have things to say.

I thought Andy's portrayal was so perfect - with this burst of energy flaring up that you wouldn't have noticed before, but there was always that potential for something to just happen. Maybe it would be something more fun than you would think of, or something seemingly absurd but really pretty clever. It might be oddly subversive.

Now I will add to that the stories from the service, and the videos, and especially the video footage of him portraying a dog, which he really nailed with the sweetness and the enthusiasm and the vulnerability there.

It's good that we get together to grieve. It is also hard.