Two months ago, we lost Dennis. Just as we predicted, things have been noticeably different.
I was resistant to writing about Dennis today. About two weeks ago, someone wrote on the HoCo Rising Facebook page "I miss Dennis Lane too but you need to let him go." That stung. There is a delicate balance between giving proper remembrance and dwelling on loss. Even if you think you're more in the former, others, who choose to put death in the back reaches of their mind, may find you in the latter. Maybe all mourning should be private.
The good things are there too. I laugh almost every day thinking about how Dennis would interpret the latest news, how excited he would be about the repainting of Main Street, and the bull...shenanigans he would call on the characterization of certain local candidates in the press. How many good-natured fights would he have picked over the last two months? What pictures would he have taken? Who would have been the guests on the last four episodes of And Then There's That?
As we move further from the days Dennis was with us, I keep trying to catalog all of the things we said we would do for Dennis after he was gone, and make sure we don't lose track. Are we going to get that plaque placed at Clyde's? How about naming a street "Dennis Lane"? Did we raise enough money for the Dennis Lane Memorial Fund?
And in the end, we're really just doing these things for ourselves.
This has ended up being a much darker post than I had intended. Is that what happens two months after losing someone? Is this impolite conversation?
This weekend, Rick Moshin will be visiting the Wine Bin. The last time Rick was here, Dennis and I ran into each other at the tasting. And that's my story. I have all of these little moments from the last two years that carry significance only in the fact that Dennis was there.
I am writing this because I presume I'm not alone in the weird "two months out" spot. At least I hope not. This is right around when you're compelled to "move on", but don't want to go back to normal. You want something marking this person's impact on your life that is permanent and representative of the individual. I presume this was the impetus of many a tattoo. But I'm not getting a tattoo and I don't know how else to remember him but write. Past the two month point. Whether it is impolite or not.
Wordbones Book Club is set for July 15. Let's meet at Centennial Lake, Pavillion H on the east side of the park at 6:30 p.m. I have not reserved it, but hopefully that will not be a problem. Bring Twinkies.
Have a great Wednesday doing what you love!
