from A to Z: doozel, a year later.
It didn't really hit me that a year has passed by since doozel's death until Jess texted me about it. It was interesting to monitor my reaction to her text, to her LJ entry about it, and my thoughts about what to say when i decided that this D entry was going to be for him.
Because when i wrote a year ago about it, i talked about how stupid and wrong it felt that doozel is now a "was". And now that i'm sitting here thinking about it again, he's actually starting to feel less like a "was" and is turning back into an "is."
I think this stems from how his memory, however fleeting, is now something that i've absorbed and incorporated in some way into my consciousness, most tangibly in the fact that i now drink Jameson on a regular basis, and any time i do it's because of and in honor of him. Sometimes, when i'm feeling it, i still give him a tip of the head before i take my first sip of it; other times i just drink it because it's now something that even if it's because of him is now also a part of me. It's in that sense that he is now an "is", not unlike, but in a more poignant way, how anyone who i interact and bond with finds its way into my life, my heart, my consciousness.
The fact that he feels more of an "is" and not a "was" could be partially attributed to the fact that despite knowing him somewhat, i didn't know him nearly as well as i know all of the people that he was close to instead. I speculate that the "was" period of mourning would likely hit me much harder if it was someone that i was Actually Close to, and particularly if i knew it was a suicide. But maybe not; as much as i sometimes can lose myself in reflecting on the past in ways that are wistful, i tend not to dwell; i push forward and forge ahead in how i live as best i can, continuing to learn, evaluate, evolve, and try to become a better person for others and for myself.
All that said, to think of him not having a more active energy in this life still makes me sad because of how much i know he is missed. to think of him feeling like in his last moments he felt alone or felt like a burden makes me sad because the memorial was a testament to how much that wasn't the case, something that he'll never know and have someone like jess to rub in his face.
But going back and rereading the entries i wrote about him at the time both before and after the memorial, bringing back those memories from a year ago that simultaneously feels like yesterday and ages ago, makes me realize just how much the impact of the whole affair has also permeated into my consciousness, something that started a few years back when i decided to stop hiding my birthday and has since become further enforced in my brain with the travel that i've done, most recently with the amazing wedding of Matt and Erica, and also the recent celebration of Regan's first birthday and Mark's 40th.
Which is mainly the reinforcement of the realization that people fucking rock.
The connections that i have, the people whose lives i've touched and who have touched mine, close loves all the way to random strangers - all of that is something that i cherish more than ever and always will. It's what makes life life. And life is pretty awesome.