…I hope your night was ok. All I can think about is how you and Audrey
are doing. Knowing the guy upstairs keeps making noise and smoking,
makes it so difficult for me to relax.
I promise we will move out soon. Maybe moving to/buying a new place
is my birthday gift for you. (well, I will have a proper party for you
when Im back- for your b-day and mother’s day)
I love you so much, and do want you to be happy. We’ll get there.
This was part of an email exchange between us last year the day before my birthday, written from Australia or New Zealand or someplace like that.
It just accentuates what I’ve been feeling a bit more lately- all the old crap of life is still there…our loud upstairs neighbor, the fact that Audrey doesn’t have her own bedroom and is rapidly growing out of her “nook,” and now added to it all- the fact that you, the sole provider, are dead. Still, I don’t have a lot of anxiety about any of this- but just something I’ve been noticing- wow- all that crap is still here. In no way does tragedy striking get you a free pass for anything. It means I’ll spend years grieving the loss of you my love, and then life in general- all the basics- will also be much more of an uphill climb than it even was.
Hey- I never got my proper party when you got back- I guess things were pretty busy and you were only home a few weeks (with two other concerts in other states) before heading back on tour to die. We haven’t moved out- I’m still here…the neighbor’s still really noisy- as if he’s dropping furniture at all hours of the day and night.
I read on some band’s fb page today some comments on your death from back then- they were mostly from fans of that band and people who’d seen you play recently. One person just wrote “his death is stupid.” Without any disrespect to you Dan, God- it is so stupid.
We’ll get there…we’ll get there…