One Year Ago Today…

One year ago today, I had the sad task of posting an obit for one of my best friends ever, a terrific fellow named Earl Kress. That's Earl in the photo above, sitting next to yesterday's Birthday Girl. In fact, the last time I saw Earl — just a few days before he died — I attended June Foray's 94th birthday party and then drove over to spend what I kinda sensed would be my last moments with my pal.

It was an evening of contrast. Earl would have loved that party because he loved June and the kind of folks who turned out for June…actors, writers, artists. Ordinarily, when he and I got together, we talked for hours about our many mutual interests. That last evening with him was painful because for the first time since Daws Butler introduced us several decades before, Earl and I had nothing to talk about. We couldn't talk about what he was doing because he was dying. And we couldn't talk about what I was doing because he was dying. And we couldn't talk about things outside that room because he was dying.

I am very good at getting over death on an individual basis. Lots of deaths in rapid succession can make for a very depressing atmosphere but when they're spaced out at decent intervals, they're quite manageable. I totally understand the concept that people go away and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop it. My father's death was not very traumatic for me, perhaps because we had a great relationship and there was nothing dangling or unresolved. When a former lady friend of mine lost her mother, I heard for months sentences that began with "Oh, if only I'd told her…" or "Oh, I wish she and I had…"

I had zero of those with my father. I was sad for the loss and sad for my mother but the closest I've come to thinking in Alternate Timelines is that things will happen to me — good things, generally — and I think, "Oh, he would have enjoyed seeing this." That's been my main reminder the last year that Earl is gone. I read an article or see some event announced that I know he'd love…and I can't call and tell him about it. Apart from that, you get over it…because you have to. And that's very possible if you remember that "getting over it" is not the same thing as forgetting.