breakthrus and nothing but love.

I haven't been myself for days. And as strange as it may sound, it's actually been good this way. I mean, I think I'm finding a new me under all these layers i've been peeling back for what it seems like to be for years. And something happened to me last night that had been dieing to get out of me.

We were drinking some beers and listening to my ipod. I just recently updated my music to include the top played songs and the top rated songs, 5 and 4 star tracks. It's been interesting to hear it all. Sometime I wonder what day and what mood I was in to say, yes! thats 5 freaking stars! It says something intimately about a person, and ipod. I say when I die, just plug it in and play it and it will tell you everything about me. But anyway, a song by Marchell Ivery came on, who was dear friends with Richard.. and it was melancholy and good and all of the sudden it hit me, that I think about Richard everyday. It isn't conscience, but something reminds me of him everyday. It also is because that without him, I wouldn't have this bookstore. My life has changed so dramatically from his passing. I don't know why I never took the time to aknowlege this in the way it needs to be honored. I say and closed my eyes and saw his face and hear his laugh and I said so sadly to C that I missed Richard, and that he was a very good friend to me. And he was. I can't think of any other friend I have every had that was a good and fair and kind and loving and human as he was. And then it hit me like a freightrain. I cleaned out his apartment the day after he passed. I played Marchell on the broken down CD player while i went thru his things, touched his clothes, went thru stacks of papers and writings and little things. Placemats and salt shakers. Table by the sun, his thin pancake matress on his floor, his books stacked in places ready to be fisnished with his torn paper place markers in them. His favorite chair next to his box of flutes. It hit me hard. I was important to him. I was one of the people that cleaned up his house. This is big. It's a big thing. Why did I not see that what he was to me was so much more that a friend. I used to tell him that I wished he was my Dad. He told me he wished I was his daughter. And the tears came hard.. and I let them wash over me.. feeling this big solid rock float off of my chest.. I think it's been there since he died.. I covered up the hole that was left when my heart broke in two and the other half floated away with him.. we used to swim every week. float in the sun on our backs and talk about important things. He told me about his youth, about his parents and family that he was estranged from. He told me about New York and taxi driving and jounalism and newspaper work, and the unions and the communist party and when he worked for Head Start, and how he taught the kids, and what Central Park was like, and on and on and on.. and we'd float and talk all day until we were hungry and then we'd go eat vegan lunch or chinese food and be refreshed and happy.

RICHARD YOU WERE SO BIG TO ME. RICHARD YOU WERE SO IMPORTANT TO ME. RICHARD I WILL ALWAYS AND FOREVER CARRY THE MEMORIES WE SHARED AND I WILL NEVER FORGET HOW LARGE AND IMPORTANT YOU ARE TO MY LIFE. even now, in the still of the day, years after you pass, i can feel your love, and most of all I can accept it and own it for myself. I wish you were here, my friend. My life is forever changed for knowing you. Now i'm going to cry again. But i'm not sad.. i'm so so very happy that I knew you.