thoughts

So the memorial service for Grant was today, and it was beautiful, I think. I can't say for sure because some other person got up there and sang and led worship without sobbing uncontrollably because it wasn't me. It was an out of body experience. I had this strange sense of peace and calm the whole time. I remember thinking "you can do this, you lead worship all the time," and "everything is going to be alright," and "an americano with 2 percent would be delicious right now." Strange I know. Interesting what the mind does to preserve itself. It's true that I've lost friends before but it never gets easier. The platonic male friend is a unique phenomenon, always more common when one is married, but still rare. A genuine friend. Like the whole thing in When Harry Met Sally about whether or not men and women can really be friends. I know they can be, because I've had them, not many, and three of them I've lost. An americano does sound good right about now.

I looked up Grant's obituary online (because I don't read the newspaper, I am a publicist who doesn't read the newspaper) and I felt for a second like I was trapped in a movie like "Dead again" or something where the person is not really gone but they are seeing the world act as if they are and how strange that is. Seeing that picture of him, that grin, next to those words, is so wrong, so out of context, so surreal.

Yes, he was sick, but he never seemed sick, he never acted sick. He always acted like his illness was a temporary road block, a minor irritation. What was that nickname he had for his nefrologist? Something offensive and hilarious. I bet that guy will miss Grant. There's a woman out there that Grant had dated, Adriana, and I wish I could get her phone number or contact her somehow. We never met her, but she is sick too, and I want to love on her- as we say in the South, talk to her. Being around his friends is comforting, but I keep waiting to see him walk around the corner. Show up at my front door with take out , in his shorts and birkenstocks, the taped up arm, the goofy smile, the polite-ness. He was polite. I always felt like Grant knew how to tie a tie, how to address people properly, how to act in fancy places and situtations. I liked his waspiness, it was comforting to me. My mother would have loved him if she'd gotten to know him. She did meet him once or twice at Christmas. That was nice.

I remember that first lunch at J Alexander's after Easter. Grant was there and all our "Well" friends (the young adult ministry at Grace), Rob and his mom, Sydney was a baby. Paula and Bill were there, gosh they were like holiday parents to Grant- there was a stretch when we got him for Easter, Thanksgiving and for the Baptism- post Baptism party, he was baptised with Sydney. I just want to write it so I don't forget how he was so easy going, how he came along, how he said yes to church, yes to lunch, yes to our small group. How eventually he said yes to Jesus and yes to living, or Living, really. It is a great honor to have been a witness to that transformation. He was so cool about it, so matter of fact.

This old world is not the same without you in it my friend. I will truly, truly miss you. But I will see you again someday in a better place than this one. Like Erin said "Put in a good word for us".

Love, Cameron