Christmas Eve Again

Those who are long-time readers of the blog first of all should go outside more often…but second of all will recall that every Christmas Eve, I bum everybody out by writing about a friend of mine who died of Hodgkin’s Disease on a Christmas Eve several years ago. At some point today, I will listen to his college band, Potter’s House, and think about when we were friends. How he’d always let me play his bass at his gigs. How he’d talk to me endlessly about music. How he gave me his phone number the last time I saw him, and how–like an idiot–I never called, and therefore didn’t hear he was sick until he was gone. Sometimes a mistake begins a tradition…and that one started this… So…

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Paul,
It has been another year. I don’t remember how many years it has been anymore…and that feels like TOO many. I still think of you pretty much every time I plug in a bass. I also often think of you when I don’t too, which is good since I didn’t do as much playing this year. I’ve kept in touch with your sister through Facebook–which I’m now realizing didn’t exist before you left this place. I guess it’s been at least THAT long, huh? I don’t know if you knew at the time just how much it all meant to me. I was this weird, shy, let’s-face-it-geeky kid that you took the time to be kind to. And as long as I have the capacity to remember things, I will remember that. Thanks for being who you were. It helped to make me who I am–at least the GOOD parts of me, anyway. And I miss you.

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Thanks everybody for once again indulging me in this little tradition. It probably doesn’t mean near as much to y’all as it means to me…but it’s still very nice of you to read it every year.

Now…onward to Christmas!