I'm a guy that looks for signs. My skeptic friends may be disheartened to hear that, but it is just part of my character. I'm superstitious.
Is the penny on the ground heads up? Pick it up.
Bring your lucky hat to the game? Well then we did our part.
Jinx something? Knock on wood.
I know its ridiculous, but in effect these things give a small handle on the uncontrollable unpredictable chaos that surrounds and pervades our mirage of order.
One year ago tomorrow, at around 6:30 am, I came downstairs to get the newspaper and thought of throwing it directly into the recycling bin. I knew the front page was going to bite me. But some weird compulsion of loyalty brought me to open it up, as if I was doing it in memory of someone else. "This happened. Let it happen in full." And then I saw this:
I was immediately overcome with the dual emotions of hilarity and sorrow. I held myself up on the kitchen counter as I laughed, shook my head, and cried. No single hug, phone call, or reflection made me feel better than this photograph. This mistake. On the front page of The Baltimore Sun.
I'm not here to tell you whether there is an after-life or not. Nor am I going to premise my argument on a very bad day for a local newspaper editor. But when you have something like this, that is just the type of humor that would have sent your lost friend rolling out of his chair with laughter, it is hard to ignore. And if I saw Dennis tomorrow, my very first question would be "Did you do that?"
This isn't my reflection on Dennis. I've already done that and still feel it is the best recapitulation of our relationship. I'm just not quite done feeling like he's around.
Have a great Saturday doing what you love.