We Had Plans...

A friend of mine died earlier this week. I didn't find out until yesterday. Another friend went to his facebook page because he hadn't posted anything in a few days and that was odd. She found the post from his brother letting people know what had happened and then posted on her own page that he was gone. 

When I first saw her post, the picture of the two of them and the message that she would always miss him I didn't quite put it together. That always part. 

See when you have friends all over the world you do always miss them. The physical presence of them. Like the holiday yesterday (even though 80% of my list doesn't celebrate that one) there was no big communal meal. No dessert train house party. Just the virtual check ins that we are all really used to. And it works for all of us. I've held hands with someone from thousands of miles away. I've hugged people on Monday who were already on Tuesday. But not the physical touch. 

Not the warmth of a body in your house. 

The peaceful feeling of breathing the same air. Hearts beating in sync as you sit together. 

So you see, missing someone is a thing we all do a lot. 

But this was always. 

I read it a few more times trying to get it to sink in. My subscious was getting it long before my "logical" brain could work it out. Because I was already sobbing. I went and found the post from his brother and read that a few times as well. Trying to absorb the impossible. 

He couldn't be dead because we had plans. 

We were going to watch hockey together. Or skaty icy punch as he called it. We were going to cook together. Or I was going to watch while he cooked for me. He was going to count the number of words he could get Brent to say and try to break 100. We were going to get a beer together and since I don't like beer that meant he could have two and of course we would need to do this for a few rounds. And next year was the perfect year for it all. There would be a stretch were I was 55 and he was 44 and he knew I'd really dig that, so it was perfect. 

Because that was his way. What do you dig? Let me share that with you. He would send videos that made him think of you. He would send messages when the clock hit a time that made him think of you. And he didn't just do this for me. He did this for everyone. He had that sort of personal, you are important to me in ways no one else is, connection with everyone. Everyone felt like they were special to him. 

And everyone was. 

And he was to everyone.

He told great stories about his day to day life. You all know I appreciate a picture with words. He could do that. And a lot of his stories were my favorite kind. The kind with a good twist. Even though I already knew the twist I still loved these stories. See, he was a long haired, steel toed boot, wallet on a chain, voice like a throat full of gravel scary looking guy. Who made sure old ladies got groceries when it was snowing. Who helped people when they were short a few dollars at the register. Who gave up half of his lunch so the homeless guy in the alley could eat. He was the good in the world. That was the twist. 

Don't judge a book by its cover. You don't know the depths of love that can be held in a skinny as fuck frame. 

So many of us were concerned about what would happen when Murphy died. She was his 20 year old cat. Named after the Dropkick Murphys (another point on the line that let me know early on that we were going to be great friends).Murphy and George had been close to the same age. And Murph was the only grown cat that could make him look huge. She is a tiny little thing. Perpetual kitten. And when we lost George 7 years ago Kevin would send me messages with close up concerned face photos of Murph to check in. That's Kevin. He would tell you what an asshole he was while being just the sweetest person you could imagine. 

A few years ago a woman broke his heart. Twice. The second time she did it I was talking to him via PM and Brent looked at me and said, "No." I hadn't been talking about loud so I wasn't sure what he was telling me no about. He said, "You are not driving to Canada to kick her ass." Seems though I wasn't using my outside my head voice my face was speaking loudly. And yes, I was feeling like I needed to take a road trip. I wasn't going to kick her ass, I was just going to have a conversation with her about what would happen if she ever fucked with him again. It would be her call what happened next. 

He was one of mine. 

He was one of ours. 

But we had plans so it couldn't be true. 

And that's where my head keeps going back to. We had plans. Like that should matter. Like somehow if you have plans you cannot die. You cannot leave until they are completed.

But we all know that's not true. 

So many of us are going to miss his so very deeply. He had a bigger impact on so many lives than I think he had any idea about. I asked a friend of ours if she thought he knew, and she said that even if we had told him he wouldn't have believed it. 

You never know what your presence in someone's life means to them. 
You never know how important you really are in the world. 
You never know how deeply you will be missed. 

He was the good in the world. 
He was the help in the cold. 
He was the food for the hungry. 
He was the thinking of you and hope you are well post. 

A friend of ours said "We should all go out and be Kevin."

I think that's the best legacy he could have left. 

Be more Kevin. 
The world needs more Kevin.

I love you, Kev. I'll miss you for always. 

And I love you all as well.