Camera Toss

1. Get camera.
2. Set 2-second delay.
3. Press shutter button.
4. Chuck it in the air.
5. Catch it.*

More over yonder round Flickr way.

* Important.

Dear Ames,

I must apologize- I should have written you earlier. I’d ask for your forgiveness but something tells me you already have. That’s just how you are.

You died a little over a month ago. You died. Writing it generates the same numb incomprehension as when I say it or think it.

I’ve received so many notes and cards over the last 30 days - many of which were from people who didn’t even know you. And they all tell me how sorry they are. The funny thing is that I want to tell them: “You’re sorry for me? I’m sorry for you. You never met Amy. You never got to know her the way I did. You never got to feel her warmth, her love, her touch, her kindness. So for that, I’m sorry.”

All us left behind down her are doing OK, I guess. As you might imagine we’re all handling things in our own way - sometimes good, maybe sometimes bad. But always in our own way. I’ve told you a million times before not to worry about me, but I think part of you always went ahead and did it anyway. That’s just how you are.

I’ll never forget that night in Edinburgh when you ended things between us (maybe transitioned things is a better phrase). But knowing you as I do, I know that it probably was the right thing to do, although I couldn’t see it at the time. You were so good through the whole episode. You told me all the right things. You told me, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Fool that I am, I did something irrational and stupid: I made you promise me. And you did. You told me, “I’m not going anywhere - I promise.” And I believed you.

For six years you kept your promise - we never fell out of touch. We remained closest of friends. We alwasy tried our hardest (usually successfully) to make time for one another. Treasured moments, all.

Then a month ago you broke that promise. You left for good. You went away, never to return. You died.

Of course, I can’t fault you for this broken promise - too much in life is so totally out of our control. So much is left to chance, fate, providence, God. If anyone’s to blame it’s me - I never should have made you make a promise that no one could be certain they could keep. I’m sorry. I’m sorry your promise was broken. It would have been OK 75 years from now, but not here and not now.

I’ll get back to you soon, but until then, let me say this - and this is not a promise. We won’t make that mistake again. I’ll just say it just to say it and leave it at that:

If you ever get some free time, stop in and see me. Say hello. I think you’ll know how to find me.

I’m not going anywhere.

Love,

DAve