pete.
i wish you were still here so i could tell you i love you one more time. you aren't. you won't ever be again. that's okay. i told you i loved you in march, and i meant it, and i know now, since my grandma, since john, that this telling of love is essentially only for me.
i remember how into the process of death you were; how interested you were in what i do, why i do it, how i could possibly fathom the idea of touching human remains. i want to tell you now, because i think you will understand, that i want to do it because of you. because rocks fall, and people die, and there is fallout from that, there is so much grief. people don't get closer, they drift farther apart. i want to be the person that tells the world, my world, that everything is going to be okay, not to drift away when they experience such catastrophe. i wish i could be with our family of friends right now, wandering their lithe frames and telling them jokes because i want them to laugh.
because i know what i know, i do not mourn. i celebrate. and last night in the silent dawn, i woke up to the sunrise and celebrated your life, pete. i danced in the street and smoked cigarettes and laughed into the awakening sky.
i don't believe there is life after death, and i don't believe in god. i know your family does, and by greek ritual, they will mourn you for forty days, wearing nothing but black. because i have to study these things, i know they believe that your body will be reunited with your soul at last judgement and that they believe you are with god now. a part of me believes this also, that your eternal life lives on in all of us. i know it is tradition for your family to mourn your passing, but i know you would want them to celebrate your life. to dance, to sing, to shout. if not your immediate family, i know your family of friends will celebrate you. so many people love you. i know you know this, even if you denied it when you were alive, i know you know it now.
when i met you, you were wary of me. tested me thoroughly to make sure i was a worthwhile person who would stick around. and then we celebrated my integrity. i remember spending hours in lil devils pacing the clothes and watching the register when you had to go to the bank. i remember roller skating wobbly through the shop, driving around in your audi with sara looking for my lost keys. i will surely miss our smoke breaks, our epic shit talks after the nights i spent drinking in the bar, after nights i woke up on zee and michelle's floor confused, when you caught me stumbling to portfolio in the wee hours of dawn.
someone told me once, that your personality is made up of the five people you see the most, and i think you were a little part of me a year ago; sighing big sighs into the morning traffic on fourth street and laughing stoned at passerby. for me, that whole year was a confused jumble of awkward feelings, so much roller derby, and feeling like i didn't quite fit in. somewhere in there, you made me feel like i belonged; telling me i looked pretty almost every day, asking me if i lost weight, offering me candy, knowing exactly what to say to me when i felt like no one understood what was happening.
now that you are gone, i can put that year i spent not being true to myself to bed. here in portland, there is no more roller derby for me. i am certainly not known to the derby community, and have tried to keep that part of my life out of this one. not for shame, but because i miss it so much. i remember when you came to see me in august, and gave me the biggest bear hug of my life, brought michelle her helmet back, spoke with me about your pain. i am so happy that you will never know the pain of the heart again, that you will never suffer another loss that rocks your fragile feelings and bruises your ego. i am sad to see you leave my life, but content to know you will never suffer again.
pete toulious, what i know for sure is this: you are safe now. you are loved. you are respected and you are missed sorely. at this time, you will have already been cared for by the people in my field of work, and trust me, they will have respected you fully. soon, we will all gather to mourn you, and then, we will return you to the place you came from. i will visit you there when i am next in town.
your memory will live on in the faces of all who surrounded you, in the faces of the people i only now seldom see.
i love you, my friend pete.
sleep now.
eryn
rip pete toulios
4/1/77 - 5/17/10
i remember how into the process of death you were; how interested you were in what i do, why i do it, how i could possibly fathom the idea of touching human remains. i want to tell you now, because i think you will understand, that i want to do it because of you. because rocks fall, and people die, and there is fallout from that, there is so much grief. people don't get closer, they drift farther apart. i want to be the person that tells the world, my world, that everything is going to be okay, not to drift away when they experience such catastrophe. i wish i could be with our family of friends right now, wandering their lithe frames and telling them jokes because i want them to laugh.
because i know what i know, i do not mourn. i celebrate. and last night in the silent dawn, i woke up to the sunrise and celebrated your life, pete. i danced in the street and smoked cigarettes and laughed into the awakening sky.
i don't believe there is life after death, and i don't believe in god. i know your family does, and by greek ritual, they will mourn you for forty days, wearing nothing but black. because i have to study these things, i know they believe that your body will be reunited with your soul at last judgement and that they believe you are with god now. a part of me believes this also, that your eternal life lives on in all of us. i know it is tradition for your family to mourn your passing, but i know you would want them to celebrate your life. to dance, to sing, to shout. if not your immediate family, i know your family of friends will celebrate you. so many people love you. i know you know this, even if you denied it when you were alive, i know you know it now.
when i met you, you were wary of me. tested me thoroughly to make sure i was a worthwhile person who would stick around. and then we celebrated my integrity. i remember spending hours in lil devils pacing the clothes and watching the register when you had to go to the bank. i remember roller skating wobbly through the shop, driving around in your audi with sara looking for my lost keys. i will surely miss our smoke breaks, our epic shit talks after the nights i spent drinking in the bar, after nights i woke up on zee and michelle's floor confused, when you caught me stumbling to portfolio in the wee hours of dawn.
someone told me once, that your personality is made up of the five people you see the most, and i think you were a little part of me a year ago; sighing big sighs into the morning traffic on fourth street and laughing stoned at passerby. for me, that whole year was a confused jumble of awkward feelings, so much roller derby, and feeling like i didn't quite fit in. somewhere in there, you made me feel like i belonged; telling me i looked pretty almost every day, asking me if i lost weight, offering me candy, knowing exactly what to say to me when i felt like no one understood what was happening.
now that you are gone, i can put that year i spent not being true to myself to bed. here in portland, there is no more roller derby for me. i am certainly not known to the derby community, and have tried to keep that part of my life out of this one. not for shame, but because i miss it so much. i remember when you came to see me in august, and gave me the biggest bear hug of my life, brought michelle her helmet back, spoke with me about your pain. i am so happy that you will never know the pain of the heart again, that you will never suffer another loss that rocks your fragile feelings and bruises your ego. i am sad to see you leave my life, but content to know you will never suffer again.
pete toulious, what i know for sure is this: you are safe now. you are loved. you are respected and you are missed sorely. at this time, you will have already been cared for by the people in my field of work, and trust me, they will have respected you fully. soon, we will all gather to mourn you, and then, we will return you to the place you came from. i will visit you there when i am next in town.
your memory will live on in the faces of all who surrounded you, in the faces of the people i only now seldom see.
i love you, my friend pete.
sleep now.
eryn
rip pete toulios
4/1/77 - 5/17/10