On Your 49th Birthday

For days I've been thinking about your birthday
About how I've not been able to be available for all of your calls lately
How I was going to send you a present
Or FaceTime you and hope you'd be able to pick up the call
I was trying to figure out how to annoy you on your birthday
Since I couldn't blow up your phone with 49 gifs
I was still thinking these thoughts when your mom called
When I saw the black screen with the white letters that read
"Mrs. Young" 

It was a type of deja vu
Like that call two autumns ago
The one out of the blue that informed me
You had a catastrophic stroke
A bitter and belated present for your 47th birthday
I answered this call, like the last, to your mom's calm and sweet voice
The one with business in its foundation
Like before, she lead with pleasantries as she likes to do
And I braced
Then came what I dreaded
"I have news. I have sad news."
And the world stopped turning for those seconds
"My son is gone."
My friend was gone
YOU were gone
Just...
No longer here

You slipped your tether and escaped this life
For as much as I wanted you to be free 
To not be in a body that had betrayed you
To not be struggling with everyday living
I believed in you
I believed you would fight your way to better
I held no illusions that you would be fully restored
But you would find a new normal and thrive
And we'd laugh at stupid things
Debate Star Trek canon 
And talk about how you would move here or there
How you would be an engineer, mathematician, animator
We would talk about esoteric ideas
We would reminisce on the potential of our childhoods
And the disappointments of our adulthoods
And how the next chapters would be what we wanted them to be

We were suppose to cheer each other on
You were supposed to see your namesake grow into a man with his brothers
You were supposed to celebrate with me when I finalized my divorce
You were supposed to come visit my new home
You were supposed to be here
Forgive me that I do not find any solace in knowing you will still do those things
That you will laugh with me and stand by me
I know I should be grateful for the extra time of the last 2 years
For the broken reconnection we were able to have
But it wasn't nearly enough
And now I don't know what to do
Or how to feel
And all I can do is write this stupid poem 
Because I cannot hear your excited giggle anymore
Because I cannot tell you happy birthday

We met during what was arguably the greatest year in music: 1984
I feel like the radio has gone terribly silent 41 years later
But you have the last laugh
That ridiculous song from a mid-90s summer won't get out of my head
Ron C's Dookie Booty
That absolutely terrible song you blasted in your way-too-hot Jetta 
As we rode down El Camino Real on the way to Lee's Comics
You bought the core book for Vampire the Masquerade that day
We laughed at how your parents would likely hate that book
And we laughed every time you'd replay that dumb ass song

This poem is as chaotic and messy as my heart
I am grateful for your release and I am mad as hell
I understand nothing in this wrongness of your death
That word feels like sandpaper on my soul in reference to you
I love you
I'm sorry that I couldn't love you they way you so badly wanted
You better say hello but remember 
I don't do ghosts or disembodied voices
I instead do dreams and symbols and knowings

I wanted to write odes to my friends while they were still here
I write this ode for you because I just don't know what else to do
Because feelings are too big
And words are too insignificant
But they are all I have
None of this feels fair
All I know is the world is so still without you
Without the sound of your voice answering my 
"Happy Birthday"

-gws