Bye, Buddy

Sam was the king of gifts. We shared a birthday month, so whenever September rolled around, I would desperately try to outdo him with my birthday gift to him. I was six years his senior, so I didn’t understand why it was so difficult! But he had a gift for gifts. 

One year for his birthday, I got him a floating unicorn drink holder; he responded by getting me a bulk-sized container of Atomic Fireballs for mine. It’s hard to explain, but it was perfect. Another year, this time for Christmas, I got him a Lego set that his friend had received that I knew he really wanted. And what did he do? He went to Barnes & Noble and picked out EMS flashcards for me. Anyone who remembers me from a certain time of my life knows I was obsessed with preparing for a career as a doctor, so Sam knocked it out of the park again.

When he was in high school, he made me a chocolate high heel. I was known for my impractical taste in footwear back then (those days are long gone), and he decided he would make an edible version of my passion for fashion. My mom said it took him hours. I could never bring myself to eat it – it stayed in my apartment probably far longer than it should have for something that was technically perishable. 

One year for Christmas, Sam’s present for me was wrapped in a delicate little box; I thought it was jewelry, as, in years past, he had personally picked out earrings for me. To my delight, I opened it to find a tea candle with the phrase “Get the fuck out of my house” scrawled across it in Sam’s signature handwriting. It was a hilarious reference to an SNL skit where Ryan Reynolds is selling candles to clear out guests that have overstayed their welcome. I now proudly keep this on display year-round.

Years later, after he was diagnosed, he made me a copy of an iconic David Rose lightning bolt sweater from Schitt’s Creek. I wouldn’t shut up about the show, which annoyed him, but he clearly understood how important it was to me. He got stencils and fabric paint from Michael’s and hand-painted a black sweater. In the photo of me wearing it right after I opened it, I look like I am smiling so hard that my face is going to fall off. 

My absolute favorite gift from him was something so simple, but it encapsulated him and his penchant for presents perfectly. 

To even begin to understand this gift, you need to know that Sam loved movies and loved jokes. Even before he could speak real words, he would tell himself jokes in his own made-up baby language. The words made no sense, but his comedic timing was eerily good for an 18-month old. 

As he grew older, he excelled in quoting movies. He actually got in a little trouble for that after seeing the movie Head of State. As children, if we were allowed to see a movie, our argument was that we were allowed to say anything that was said in the movie. It was our expert semantic excuse for being able to quote Donkey from Shrek: “Parfaits are the most delicious thing on the whole damn planet!” Well, after watching the 2003 Chris Rock film with a 29% on Rotten Tomatoes, Sam went around proudly shouting “If America was a woman, America would be a big-tittied woman!” Just imagine a five-year-old nailing that line with perfect timing. 

Another one of Sam’s favorite movies was Zoolander. Some of his favorite bits were Derek Zoolander’s inability to turn left, the “really, really, really, ridiculously good-looking” line, and, most importantly, Zoolander’s different model faces.

In my opinion, they all look pretty much the same, but Sam could strike “Blue Steel” on command then immediately follow it up with “El Tigre” with a small but critical shade of difference. It always made me laugh hysterically. So, one year for my birthday, Sam decided to put on his own little photo shoot to create framed side-by-side photos of him posing with each look: “Magnum,” “Blue Steel,” and “El Tigre.” In true Sam fashion, my mom said it took him forever – so many takes to ensure the exact right facial expression, and then so much time spent painstakingly selecting the right fonts to label each photo. 

The picture of me opening it speaks a thousand words. I have never been so immediately delighted by a gift. I keeled over in laughter, giggling until my stomach hurt.

To this day, it remains one of my favorite reminders of Sam. It epitomizes him in so many ways: his amazing sense of humor, his incredible thoughtfulness, his creativity. The way that he could speak volumes through a homemade gift, in a way that continues to echo through my life, years after we lost him. 

Thank you, buddy.