George

March 16, 2018

Today is the 4th year anniversary of my good friend George’s passing. I miss him dearly. There are days like today when I can’t believe that he’s really gone. Life without him is not the same. It’s as if the sun doesn’t shine most days. I wonder how things would be with us if he had not died. I often contemplate that when I think of us growing older as friends. I always feel awful that he was alone in his apartment when he took his last breath. We had been in a fight for about six months. It was the longest stretch of time that we did not speak. We were arguing over nonsense as usual. It’s silly how we fought over the stupidest shit. I think we took our irritabilities out on each other. I wish we were talking before he passed. I know he always knew how much I loved him and how much I enjoyed being his friend. We seriously had more fun than two people should be allowed to have. He moved in with me in both Boston and NYC and it was so enjoyable.

 

Both times it was temporary until he could find an apartment of his own. In Boston he came for a birthday party I threw for him with our good friend Shawn. He came to stay the night and stayed for seven months. Later, when I moved to NYC, I needed a new roommate and he moved in for a few months until he could get on his feet, and he stayed four years. 

Building the rooftop garden on our Brooklyn apartment was so wonderful. We would sit up at night talking and gaze at the NYC skyline. The Twin Towers felt so close we could almost touch them. Other nights we would sit on the sofa by our large picture window and watch airplanes take off from JKF airport. For hours we would just talk and laugh. We talked about everything. We filled each other in about our lives and dreams. We always laughed. The last time we spoke on the telephone we were joking and George was being his usual comic self. I was laughing so hard. I threw myself back onto the pillows of my bed laughing out loud. The real laughing out loud. George said to me, “No one will ever make you laugh like I do.” As I sit here thinking of those days, I have to be honest - he was right. I miss laughing with him. We laughed from way down deep in our souls. He always made everything better. He was able to get me out of my own way more than anyone else. He always believed in me and encouraged me to achieve my dreams. I miss him and hope he hears me when I say I love him more than words will ever be able to express. 

 

I hope he is enjoying Heaven with Shawn and Jarrod. Lord knows they are keeping God well entertained. I know he is with his Grandmother, his dad’s Mother. She was someone that he loved more than anyone else. I know that he was devastated when she died. He was 16 years old. Perhaps that is why he felt such relief in drinking and drugs when we were in our early 20’s. He was always trying to calm his mind and ease his broken heart. I know I was very lucky to have him as a friend. He taught me to kick things up a notch. Everything with him was big, big, big!  I think of him every time I see his favorite flowers, white Casablanca Lilies. He had a huge heart and a huge personality. I feel him with me and I feel his encouragement, especially when it comes to my work. 


Some days  I just can’t seem to get out of my own way. I find myself walking in circles wondering where he is. I will be forever grateful for his love and friendship and taking me to meet Oprah at her party at Cipriani’s in Manhattan. We had the best time talking with her and I even shared a cheek-to-cheek photo opportunity until Diana Ross jumped in the picture, which made George squeal like a little girl and drop the camera. 


One year, there was a huge snow storm in NYC and I encouraged George to go with me and enjoy Central Park. We had the best time walking around enjoying the freshly fallen snow. We even built a snowman and asked someone passing by to take our picture with him. It was one of our favorite days. 


This morning, I woke up to my home covered in beautiful soft, white snow. It reminded me of that fantastic day we shared. As I write, the sun is reflecting off the snow and filling my home with the most brilliant white light. I think it’s George.