today, it's been exactly

four months

since i lost a dear friend.

and i think, for the first time in those 4 months, i'm ready to talk about it.

pete was in a bike accident on my birthday - 2 blocks away from where i was holding a drink and wearing a birthday crown. he was found on the sidewalk, and taken to the hospital, where he was in a coma for exactly 2 weeks.... and his family sat by his side for those 14 days. when time was passing, with pete in a coma, it became evident how much people cared - thousands of people wore ties every monday, to show support. it was beautiful and heartbreaking to see photos posted of entire kindergarten classes wearing paper ties, and learning bicycle safety in his honour - thinking that they were supporting a man who would wake up, and be better.

then, on september 21st, pete passed away - his injuries were too much to recover from, and he never woke up. our worlds shattered.

one week later, bike advocacy groups help a memorial bike ride in his honour, and placed a white ghost bike at the site of the accident.... and it was the first time i had been back to the location since he crashed. it was cathartic. needed.

life changes quickly.

the weekend i found out he had passed, i spent the majority of the weekend in bed. i called friends to let them know what had happened. i slowly i couldn't make sense of any of it. i was conflicted, as pete and i had dated a few times, and our relationship was different than that of simply a friend. a friend who you didn't see or speak to constantly. a friend who you had different memories of - both good and bad. and, a friend who i wasn't sure how to miss. i spent the whole weekend trying to figure it out.

pete and i; my personalized weekly bad drawing and memories of pete

the next weekend - which happened to be the weekend of the memorial and homecoming at the school we went together - was spent doing university type things. friends and i spent time in places we frequented in university together.... and all of it was shaded in an overwhelming feeling of loss. people avoided speaking of him - and yet, we all skirted around it, acknowledging that we all felt the hole in our hearts where he normally would have been dancing, while wearing a bathrobe.

there's nothing that compares to losing a friend. nothing that compares to the sudden and tragic death of a person your age. someone who lived a life similar to your own. someone who could - for all intents and purposes - have been you. thoughts stream through your mind, like, '

what was the last thing we talked about,' and 'what do i wish i said to them?' - all the things we always think when we lose someone we care for. the troubling thing about losing a friend is, how to deal with the loss of them in your life. how to deal with that gap that is left.

"you feel an immense sense of guilt for laughter, happiness, or any seemingly menial feeling that you may feel. in the first moments - whether it be days, or weeks, or years - there are moments when you forget the world's loss, and you laugh. and the amount of guilt you feel when you laugh overwhelms you. you promise you will feel only feelings that are distraught for the rest of your life. you think of nothing but them. the thought of the world without them, and how each piece of your life together can't possibly ever be the same. you think of how you can't possibly laugh, smile, think or cry without them there to do so with you. you are angry with the world - when you see people walking around as though nothing has changed. do they not know what the world has lost? the moment they were lost was the moment the world changed, and those people around you - coworkers, disconnected friends, and even strangers - don't seem to care." (on losing a friend)

and yet, you know that what is much worse, are those family members who are living without them too. those parents who lost a son. the brother who lost his best friend. the nieces and nephews who lost an uncle.

my memorial contribution; white bike; in memory; a reminder (by photographer martin ho - set here)

i walk by the place where he was found almost daily. it's about 3 blocks from my house. my landlord forces me past it on our evening walks, to come to terms with the location, and it's place in my life. i pass places we had been together often - toronto will never be the same for me, or the other people who cared for him. all those who pained in his loss came in a flood when he passed - by his friends, his family, his students. scholarships in his honour. a memorial bike ride, and ghost bike. people came together to share stories of pete, memories, and absorbed everything they could, in his passing, to ensure none of them - none of us - would forget.

why does this all come today? why is it all front of mind, weighing so heavily on me recently?

this Christmas, pete's family spends their first without him. i can't imagine how empty it will feel.... and i can only imagine the pain they will encounter when they wake up without him in a few days.

and yet - because this is true of his family - they will smile. they will laugh in his honour. they will share photos, and stories, and eat homemade salsa and likely large amounts of meat (as pete thoroughly enjoyed - president of the university's first 'meat eaters club'). they will savoir in those things, to ensure the day is not shrouded in sadness.

so i'll do the same. i'll bask in what i have around me - my family, my friends, my dear grandma, cousins, uncles and aunts. and i ask that you do the same.

i shared this song before... a few times actually, and once within the context of my entry about losing friends (interestingly timed). and it's true. all of it. it's perfectly written. and embedded in grief and sadness. and yet, hopeful. someone else gets it.

inconsistency rang the horse

remembering pete.