I met your friend John K., who clearly loves you. I got to know your wife Chris, who sees the best in you. Her emotional intelligence, patience, and energy are astounding. She has since told me things that confirm my sad suspicions.
Babe is grieving, and Judy is acting out. Ani is confused, so I took her with me so that Chris could comfort the older ones. Ani, who you proudly introduced to me on Christmas Day as the last of your Giant Schnauzers. You were worried about your mortality compared with theirs. Four days later you died.
You left behind a wife both grieving and relieved. And a puppy who snuggles her big ridged head into my side for affection. She is used to being shouted at, and is eager to please, and reminds me daily of your capacity for love.
I keep seeing your face – smiling in a way I rarely saw you do. Smiling as if you were happy, which you never were.
The priest who said some words at the funeral home gave me two choices to read. One spoke of friendship, the other, torment. I chose torment.
I am so sorry, Joe. I hope you are on the Peace Train at last.
