It is a strange thing to lose someone. Thinking about it, its even stranger to speak of it in those terms. It makes it sound like they've just been temporarily misplaced, like the spare keys to the car.
I've forgotten where I put Roger, has anyone seen him?
I've spent the last week half-expecting someone to call and tell me it was all a joke and that he had indeed simply been misplaced, or to show up at class last night and find him sitting up the front chatting away to someone about their latest photoshop disaster, with the breadmaker merrily kneading away in the corner of the room. They didn't, and he wasn't, and I suppose that is the reality of things.
There is a certain awkwardness in having someone so influential, yet not quite a friend, suddenly wink out of existence. After the initial shock wears off you start to wonder about silly things like if you have a right to feel sad, or if sending sympathy cards to his family would be considered creepy and inappropriate, all the while feeling guilty that your education took away precious time that could have been spent with loved ones. I'm not really one for denying feelings or being appropriate, so the wondering was reasonably short-lived, but it still makes you think.
I even pondered about going to the funeral, and if that would somehow be offensive to his family. Two weeks ago Tuesday I was 5 minutes late for class and scuttled to my seat with a hushed barrage of "sorrysorrysorry". He looked bemused and said "don't be sorry, don't ever be sorry for showing up, it's a good thing". So that settled that.
I'll be there along with my classmates, the faculty staff, his family, some jammin' musos, artsy photographers, local turf farmers, a mishmash of IT and designer types, and whoever else happens to show up. I expect it to be a full house and then some.
I'll be wearing pink. I'll show a bit of skin. Somehow, these things all seem strangely appropriate.
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