OMGabe

by Gabe Berman – the author of Live Like a Fruit Fly

Archive for the category “best friends”

No Weep Till Brooklyn

I didn’t think I was going to be fine.

But then I knew I was going to be fine when I walked in.

And thankfully I was fine.

Until I wasn’t.

So, I left.

My mom, her boyfriend (which is still so bizarre to say), my dad’s best friend and his wife met for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. I knew they were going to be there so I stopped in to say a quick hello to my dad’s best friend, Davie, because I haven’t seen him since the funeral.

My dad’s funeral (which is still so biblically bizarre to say).

After pretending to be their waiter, I exchanged handshakes with the men and kisses on cheeks with the women.

We chatted innocuously for a bit before Davie said to me, “He’s the Harold I knew growing up. He looks exactly like him as a kid.”

He was referring to a photo my mom showed him of one of her grandsons (my nephew).

Harold is/was my dad’s name. And hearing his best friend since second grade say it, an atomic chain reaction of emotion spread through my soul like a neutron bomb.

I felt my dad behind Davie’s eyes

Hence, I had to get the fuck out of there before I started crying. There was no reason to add heaviness to their lighthearted dinner.

I reached over the table and kissed him on the cheek. He put his hand lovingly behind my head, as my dad would have, and kissed my cheek in return.

I never cried, even once I made outside to the safety of the parking lot, but I’m on the verge right now as I write this

Such is life. Such is death.

(Wait, does this piece just end curtly right here? With no tie-up or catharsis? C’mon man, what else would you like me to say? Of course I could easily say that you should make sure to love your loved ones while you still can. But that, like everything else, will either happen or it won’t. And with that, all I want you to know are these three things: 1. I appreciate you taking the time to read these words. Truly appreciate it. 2. I love you, whoever the hell you are. For real.
3. The reality we think is real, isn’t. So, take everything with a grain of salt. But you’ll only do that if you’re caused to. Noodle baked yet? It doesn’t matter. Just know that I love you. Yes, you, you dumb bastard. The person reading these words right now).

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