we’ve had a million and one “remember whens” but lately all the memories coming to the surface are of you and i in your car. this is a memory that surrounds me like bubbles in the air because i know it’s a memory you shared with a lot of other people in a lot of different places with a whole lot of different feelings swirling around in the wind rushing past.
every memory of you is associated with a song and i know you would be so happy to hear that. they all play in a chorus in my head this week. i find myself singing “I woke up in a car” in the shower, or remembering the time we threw our sweaty bodies around to 212. music fills me and i feel your hand in mine running through the sweating Portland streets.
while my heart breaks daily knowing that we have no more new memories to make, i can’t help but be overwhelmed with gratitude for the incredible gift it was to know you. to say that so much of my life and who i am as person has changed by the sheer fact of knowing you could never do justice to the tangible weight of that feeling.
i lost a brother this week, but i gained a lifetime’s worth of brotherly advice and inspiration in the eight years we shared together. thank you for holding up a mirror and showing me what beauty really looks like, for reminding me always to see people for all that they are and not just what appears on the surface, and most importantly, for every single bear hug that carried me through the hardest days (and even for the lap dance that one time.)
i’m already looking forward to that one last road trip into the next life with you.