Bye, Buddy

Hey, bud.

I just went up to the cabin for the first time without you. Hanging out in the screen room, and especially around the fire without you, was hard. I just remember being up there with you, getting tipsy around the fire. I was trying to do that chicken bobbing thing with my head and failing miserably. I miss being there with you.

When I got there Friday, I was early and got there before everyone. They had my cabin key for some reason, so I was locked out. Everything was kind of gross and cobwebby so I didn’t have anywhere to sit. Yes, I know I could have managed something, but I was feeling lazy after driving. So I walked down to the dock, looked around, and then came back up. I was just standing by the wooden swing looking at the lake. And then, because I have cell service up there now, I started putzing on my phone. I was doing that for maybe sixty seconds when this intense, loud, thrumming sound erupted immediately in front of my face. It scared the shit out of me; I thought I was being rudely accosted by a giant-ass bug! I stumbled back clumsily, awkwardly yelling “Aghhh!!!” 

Then…I noticed it was a hummingbird. It lingered for a second more, then flew a couple of feet away and hovered for a few moments. Then it flew away into the trees. I have never seen a hummingbird at the cabin. And I have never seen a hummingbird that close. And I just gotten my hummingbird tattoo. 

It felt like you. It felt like you were scaring me on purpose, you little shit. And telling me to put my stupid phone away and be in the moment in nature. To look at the beautiful lake and listen for the eagle, the loons, the cranes. So I did.

I really don’t know what I believe happens after we die. I always describe myself as agnostic. I don’t subscribe to any one religion or interpretation of the world. But this world is so amazing. Everything’s magic, like our song. Even this pain, this feeling of incredible loneliness, of feeling so lost I’m not sure who I am without you. Even that is magic. What kind of love did we have that I am feeling that every day. I am never mad at the grief because that grief is you. That grief is how much I loved you and I hope you loved me. So I hope that magic means there is something. Maybe it doesn’t mean that you as I remember you and me as I remember me will meet again when I die. But maybe you will be that hummingbird and I will be the birch tree you visit. And maybe Sven was that squirrel running through the branches taunting the dogs.

I love you and miss you so much, buddy.

P.S. I have been listening to your playlist nonstop. I only have about a quarter of the songs transferred to Spotify so far. But damn, dude. Best playlist ever.