You died...

If I close my eyes I can still see your smile. The strangeness of death is that even though I saw you laying in a coffin and I know, in my logical mind, that you are not physically here with us any longer, there is still a part of me that expects to see you one day back home in the Bronx.

It seems impossible that I won't ever see you again, that I will never bump into you at some gathering of old friends.   Who would've thought you'd be the first of us to go?
There's a gap in the circle now, and time is ticking away for the rest of us.

There are too many memories to put together in a time-line. A few people taught me that knowing someone for a long time doesn't really mean you know them. The web of connections we are all a part of is undeniable. How did most of us get so lost? When did we wander away from what our moms dreamed we would be? I know your mother had dreams for you, she died when you were too young and that propelled you down a road I'm not sure you ever came back from. Last I heard, you weren't doing too well.

We all came together for your wake. It was strange to see us all together after so many years apart. People flew, drove for hours, took buses and trains to say their last goodbyes. People said really great things about you. I couldn't walk up too close to the coffin. Seeing you there caused me to feel panic. How could this have happened to you? It made me feel vulnerable like any one of us could be next. I could be next.

It has been well over a year since you died. Every once in a while I remember something you said or did, that big smile you had, and I worry. Which one of us is next? I hope you really are resting in peace. I won't forget.