Yesterday I said my goodbyes to a man I have known for almost 20 years. He was 41 when he lost his battle with cancer, and while I wasn't as close to him as Satan, Nature and War, or even Death and Time, we were all there together....the first time in many years we have all been together. Mr. Myah was able to make it however She Of Little Combat Boots was sick and not really into the crowds, or funerals. I almost didn't go because I knew so few of his many SCA friends. I worried I might feel left out. Silly actually since they are such good people and made me welcome as we shared our favorite stories of Jack. I left it up to Fate if I should go, and the course of the weekend. So many tangled skeins this time....so many choices, so little opportunity, and while I was very happy to see some of my oldest friends again, it was under such sad circumstances that our smiles were tired, wistful, and full of tender compassions, and loss.
Some very bad, morning after, hung over pictures were taken at breakfast of us all. They will be on my Facebook as well as some old ones of Jack for friends to download. You know it was a good party when you are wearing the same clothes the next day. Yep. Five long island ice teas may have been one too many, so many flasks were handed to me I lost count. But we all over did it a bit, in his memory. And its exactly what he would have wanted us to do. Celebrate. Have joy that we knew him at all. His quick wit. His teasing nature. I don't think I ever heard him gossip about anyone. Why does it seem like there will always be more time? I selfishly believe that he had lots more life to live and experiences to share with us and 41 is just too damn young to die.
And so many memories came flooding back of us all together. The closure was important. I know I will see them all again....all save one. But I think he would have enjoyed the turn out and how his old friends and new friends and family all seemed to be one big camp of fandom. He lived a successful life in my opinion, even if it was short.
Now I'm back in Chicago, with Sammy Bo Baggins and Ginger Snap, and hung over grandma is not a fun place to be. But no sympathy for the self inflicted.