Over Breakfast

Emma waves me close and I have to smile at her. I lean in to her little face and ask her what’s up.

Emma and I are at The Diner, in Alhambra grabbing breakfast together. I am having the usual Ham and Egg breakfast; she is eating Pancakes I cut into bite-sized pieces for her. Music is always playing here. It invades my head for a bit reminding me of the car ride to Utah…

I’m skimming my ipod in the passenger seat of Joy’s little Toyota. I see old 90’s tracks and current new wave bands. We are munching on dried Mangos and talking about relationships. My most recent failed relationship, and the bullshit that follows something that ended in children and debt and humiliation. With bags full of clothes, toiletries, video games and computers we head out to pay our respects to Erich.

What I love about the friends that I keep close to me is our strange way of making each other happy. Our ability to be blunt and honest is shocking. Sometimes it scares me that I can say the things that I say. I used to be accused of being an asshole for telling someone they were acting like a heartless prick. The only problem with that is that the person I told that to was in fact acting like a heartless prick.

Go figure.

Not Joy though. I say that someone feels like home, and she agrees to the fact. She warns me of the follies of falling hard and what she thinks may or may not happen. She talks to me about family and religion and politics. She tells me that I am a silly boy, and that I deserve to be, but I am a silly boy nonetheless.

“Eyes?” asks Emma, as she jabs a finger full of pancake painfully into my left eyeball.

I smile and say “Eyes baby”.

Its Christa’s eyes that caught me first, before the scars. I saw her for the first time in person in the hotel lobby. At times her eyes were the only things clear enough in the pictures that I have seen of her for so long. I just got off the phone with someone who was worried about me, and all I can think is that I am the last person anyone needs to worry about. Christa is my only concern at this moment, and I have come to Utah not only to say goodbye but also to be a presence in case she needs it. If she doesn’t, then at the least I want her to know I was here.

Christa is smaller than I thought, and thinner than I figured. I hold her and fight back tears. She has had enough of that I feel, and I am not about to add to what she is already feeling. She cries in my arms and I wish I could live closer just so that I could be a better friend. It’s a long way from L.A. to Connecticut though.

“I’m gonna make you cry aren’t I? I’m sorry.” She is a bit muffled from my shoulder but this is what I hear.

“No I’m okay.” I tell her as I nod to Rick who I am meeting for the first time as well.

We have traveled across the country to see people we consider dear friends. From Oregon and California and Florida. From Colorado and Wisconsin. It is Joe who said it best (and I am sure I am misquoting)

“You can’t really measure friendship by the ability to shake someone’s fucking hand you know?” (as long as the F-bomb is dropped, then you have the most accurate quote of Joe and I)

“Yeah you’re right Dock.” I responded (at least I think. I’ve got a horrible memory).

“Nose?” Emma asks me as she puts pancake syrup as far up my nostril as she can manage.

“Nose Emma that’s right.”

I cannot feel my nose in Utah. Rick (Scooby) and I are walking to the store nearest the hotel. I don’t know what the hell I did with my gloves but I need a pair fast. Smoking a cigarette is the only thing I can think of that will warm me, but I find that it does precisely dick. Scooby is doing a great job of humoring me in all my rambling.

After most of us have arrived we head out to the house Erich used to live in. It over looks Salt Lake at the foot of the most amazing mountains I have ever seen. We say hello to family members who associate us with Erich’s online video gaming/blogging friends. We all watch Christa to make sure she is okay. Joy is next to me and leaves for a while. She was closer to Erich than I was and is handling this with grace. I go outside and smoke.

“Head” says Emma. Though she pronounces it like “HAT”.

Yes Emma that’s Poppa’s head. She smiles at me and goes back to her food. I smile at her because she makes me do that.

All the time.

There is snow on my head. I have never seen the snow fall, but when I woke up this morning it was falling right outside the window of the room that Joy and Baller and I stayed in. Tonight I intend to be drunk, I intend to crack jokes and have a good time.

“What do you folks do for a living?” asks a random hotel guest.

“Play video games” says Christa.

We all laugh at how silly it is and how true. Airme, Cornballer, Dock, JB, George W. Bush, Powder, Scooby, Tiffa and Zombie. We all met online and have spent the better part of the last 3 years visiting and partying and becoming real friends. Hell, I found that of all the stupid bullshit I was trying to avoid after high school, that most of the people I used to know are still stuck worried about their childish drama and silly pipe dreams.

Meanwhile I am living my life watching real friends of mine have children who barely survive pregnancy, or don’t survive at all. They move cross-country for love, and for family. They face bad real estate deals, and crooked lawyers. Crazy family who disappear and come back with anger and pain. They venture out and some of them never come back

Some of us have left to the funeral and others of us are piling into a mini van that Scooby rented. We have all this ability to make each other laugh even though we are all so sad. We smile at each other regardless of the murder that brought us here.

5 grown men who who have been singing Holiday by Madonna.

J.B. says “How about some donuts in this bitch?”

Sounds like a good idea, but Scooby is a seasoned snow driver, and can handle a mini van like Steve McQueen handles stunt cars. Dock reads a eulogy. I listen to my music and smile.

Emma and I are walking out of The Diner now. I’m so proud of her. She smiles and waves to everyone. She makes them smile with her big red beanie and her little Chuck Taylor shoes. Her flared jeans and vintage looking jacket makes her better dressed than I.

You can hear the smile in her voice as she says “Bye bye” to random people.

Its time to say goodbye for the last time.I see the American Flag over his coffin. I see family holding composure. I see Christa talking about the love of her life, and Joy is behind me in silence. I sit with Joe and Christa and Keith as Erich’s best friends tell anecdotes; they read Blogs that he wrote so eloquently. It hurts.

It feels as though moments have passed before I am out in the snow next to Joy. George W. holds Christa’s shoulder. Dock is reading off comments written by dozens of people from across the country and the world. Baller and Airme were Pallbearers. I don’t feel worthy of touching his coffin.

I don’t, and instead leave with Joe to smoke some more.

Dock and Zombie standing in the snow taking the classiness of Upper Crust Salt Lake City down by smoking Parliaments in the snow.

“Erich would have loved this snow Josh.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah man, he would text me when ever it was snowing and ask me to guess what he was gonna be doing in a half an hour. Fucking skiing.” (edit per Joyous)

Emma and I are at home now. Sitting watching the same Sesame Street DVD as usual, I warm her Vanilla Soy Milk and give it to her as she snuggles under her Dora the Explorer blankets. It’s about 9 or so at night, and she’s letting me sit next to her as she falls asleep. She is so warm I intend to fall asleep as soon as I know she is.

I’m drunk in the snow laughing with Dock. The guys are inside along with Joy playing guitar hero. God Bless Sailor Jerry’s spiced rum. We are laughing hysterically at yellow snow on the floor, and our ridiculous imitations of our friends. I am staying awake for Christa, and when she and Scooby walk to the room I take a deep breath.

Christa and I talk until 3 in the morning. We talk about Punk Rock and Love. We talk about pharmaceuticals and suicide and death. We drink tea and coffee and smile and laugh. I look outside from time to time and marvel at the snow. We sit next to each other in this hotel lobby for some time before we decide it would be good to get some rest.

We hug and say goodbye. She’ll be asleep when I leave at 5 in the morning.

I can’t wait to get back home and take Emma out for breakfast.

Short one.

When you're options have been expended...

When you can actually see everything in your life on the edge of a vacant space, with no end to it in sight...

What do you do?

I face that right now. Am I willing to take a step back from it all for a moment to re correct all the things that have been going on in my life? It would mean losing a lot of myself in the process, but when you have a little girl to think about you'd be willing to do anything.

Anything.