This was supposed to be a happy song. It was a happy song. But almost as far back as I can remember, it has always made me sad. But sad in a unique, disquieting, unusual way. And though it was always associated for me with a first love, it took the death of my longest, deepest love for me to recognize that feeling for what it really was.
I’ve been really, REALLY lousy about replying to each of you who have been so, SO kind, loving supporting, etc. From the really, REALLY nice kids I knew in high school, to my most recent Twitter/Social Media peeps, to everyone in between, across multiple continents and Lord Knows how many times zones, you’ve all been here for us, and it means so much. In fact, words just break and crumble at this point, so I’m just going to tag your asses and leave it at that.
I’m sorry I don’t have time or energy right now for a more fitting and complete message, but I wanted to update at least some of you who have been so kind and caring. Our family has felt your love so very, very strongly, from as close as our neighborhood to as far away as Scotland and France (keep warm!) I want to be sure you know how much we appreciate it and how much it means to us.
Julie passed away a little after 4 pm this afternoon. Her last breaths were as peaceful and serene as she has been since her first night a Hopewell House. I was right there and the kids were just outside and were able to see and understand what was happening. As awful as this whole situation in fact is, I cannot imagine how the past 5+ days could have been more beautiful and filled with love–better than I ever could have imagined it could be.
Please, please accept my apology for not calling each of you and telling you personally. I will be talking to each of you over the coming days and weeks, and please know that your love and support have come through the internets loud and clear.
This will come as a shock to almost all of you. I can elaborate on the reasons for why we have kept this information private at another time, but please know that if you did not know, it was not because Julie or I don’t love you, or care about you, or value the role you have played in our lives. Bluntly, if you didn’t know, “it’s not about you.”
Many of you know Julie; some of you know her very, very well; several of you knew her before you knew me; others a little and still others hardly or not at all. But I’ve included you in this because you are someone I feel like sharing this with at this time. If there are others on FB or IRL that I’ve not chosen to share this with, it doesn’t mean I don’t want them to know, but just that it didn’t seem right to me at this time for whatever reason. You do not need to keep this information “secret” but I would ask that if and when you share it that you do so respectfully. Then again, if I thought you wouldn’t, I wouldn’t be sharing it with you, so I suppose that’s a stupid thing to say.
The streetcar let me out on NW Northrup at 22nd. Crossing NW 23rd on the right I noticed there were row houses where there used to be a pretty big surface parking lot. Wonder how many acres of the countryside would not now be suburbs if we had done that to every parking lot in town. Across the street was where the members of R-Complex lived, painted blue now. When it was white they set up a control room with my old mixing board (which I still have) and Josh’s Tascam 8-track (which Julie and I bought from him years later and also still have). I remember recording Randy’s vocals for Fifth Quarter’s tape, when he improvised a second harmony part on the spot and we kept it all, including him tuning up his voice(s) before the song started. Too bad he could never remember the words later! (That’s OK, Randy. Your awesome work with Ed and the Boats and so many others have more than redeemed you!)