Sadness.

My Dear Friend,

Of the five stages of grief, I believe I am currently wedged somewhere between acceptance and denial. I know this because I have cried every day since we learned you were gone (acceptance), and at the same time there is a part of my brain that insists (cruelly) on imagining that this is all a mistake. Every time the phone rings I have a fleeting hope that it's someone calling to say that you've been found, safe and alive (denial).

Do you remember when we first met? The early days are foggy to me, but I believe it was sometime in late 90's at Bayberry Farm. We casually knew each other from a distance for a while, but eventually our brief chats became longer conversations, and this became the foundation for our friendship. We had a common bond - each of us stewards and self-appointed guardians of a particular piece of land and it's solitary inhabitant.

You introduced me to Tuckernuck on a sunny afternoon. You introduced me to the man that I have spent the last 9 years of my life with. You introduced me to the woman who would become your wife and my cherished friend, and to your daughters, with whom I hope to one day share stories of their father. Through knowing you my life has been immeasurably enriched, and my only regret is that I never expressed this to you while you were alive. I'd like to think I would have if we had grown older together in our friendship, but that is a sorry consolation.

Two days from now I will join the people who love you in honoring your memory and celebrating your life. I embrace this opportunity for communal grieving and the solace that comes from it - I need some relief from this heavy ache in my heart. I will pull strength from our friends and will give whatever I have inside me.

If souls are reunited after this life, I hope we will meet again. Meanwhile, I will greet you every time I cross the sound. I will hope that you are with us in spirit when we are on the pier, motoring out of Hither Creek, rounding Whale Shoal and anchoring in Tuckernuck Harbor. It is hard for me to imagine that you would not be with the guys as they head out under blue skies for an afternoon of fishing. It's hard to imagine that you will not be there when we gather to feast and reminisce among friends and music and children and dogs. So I will believe that in spirit you will be there, and we will raise a glass to you, my dear friend.

With love,

Kelly