Tuesday, March 31, 2009
37 years.
Time moves us whether we remain still and wait or constantly run from it.
I'm sitting right now on the main road in Sausalito, looking out to the bay. On my right lies San Francisco, the city where Jason thrived in life, friendships were born, bonds formed, brotherhoods found and memories will always playfully scamper in my thoughts making me smile. To my left lies Angel Island. Where we let go of Jason's remains but grasped tighter to all those memories that will carry on as pieces inside us all.
It makes me smile to sit here and think of everything. Good, bad, indifferent. It was all a game, all real life, all serious and all an amazing trip that's not over.
I imagine he's sitting on the other side of that water, sipping hot coffee at a table next to Whitman, laughing. Laughing and giddy that he's figured everything all out before we did and he's just waiting til we join him someday, so he can rub it in.
-Thirty Seven Years, by Will Zschau.
Happy Birthday Jason, you are missed madly by the brotherhood of fools.
