Loss Is Like Wet Newspapers - or - That Is One Rocking Tear Solo

My good friend, Esther, recently lost her father. She spent a lot of time at his bedside while he was in the hospital. She says she now cries whenever she does the dishes. I have never experienced anything close to that kind of loss, but I wanted to make her feel better, so last night she and I drank a bottle of wine and tried to laugh about anything. We talked about her family, and we talked about my family. She told me how her dad had little nicknames for her and her sisters, they weren't inventive nicknames, just the first syllable of their names, but that is how the sisters refer to each other now, by their father given nicknames. She told me how she never liked his new wife and how he would brush that off with a smile. “Oh, Es, she’s alright.” I told her about my Grandmother. How she used to always carry cinnamon Dentyne to keep my brother and I quiet, and how she used to make baseballs out of matzo ball soup. I told her about my Grandfather; whose kisses were like sandpaper covered with spit and who had the thickest New York accent I’ve ever heard. She told me how her kids think she’s crazy. I told her how every girl I meet thinks I’m crazy. She offered me a steak taco. I gave her an Old Style. We talked about regret and how there shouldn’t be any room in someone’s life for regret, but it sneaks it’s way into your head and beats you to a pulp while you’re not looking. Then the next thing you know, you are a pile of pulp when all you want to be is a pillar of solid; pulp isn’t solid. Pulp is mushy. Pulp is gooey. Pulp is wet leaves, the insides of pumpkins, the left over coffee grinds. We do not want to be used coffee grinds. We are not pulp, Esther and I. We are solid.

While we were talking, I remembered this video from my childhood and showed it to her.


Even though that is a killer butterfly collar, and could mostly shoot this large man into orbit if a strong enough gust of wind came along, I will tolerate absolutely no bashing of this video. Free To Be was one of the best kids movies ever, man. Epic.