Hope's Thought Spew

Tonight is a benefit concert, for your family, and for you. It's been a month and a half since you've passed. We still all miss you, terribly.

This is for you buddy. This was the day we all found out what happened. Those of us that were working left work, to be with each other, and to remember you. We all smoked some hookah and remembered all the good times we had with you. We laughed, we cried, we tried to act like we were ok. We were there for each other, we held each other, we cried with one another, we were all together again, like we haven't been in ages, all because of you.

That night, we had a fire for you, at the hookah bar, like old times.

I'll never forget the Flogging Molly concert.

I remember when you and Paul were talking about it, I didn't really know you then, and I had just started dating Paul. I kept hoping that you two would ask me to go with you. You were both so excited. I think I mentioned something about how fun that sounded, and then you two invited me.

I'll always remember last summer, around the fire, smoking hookah and talking and laughing for hours.

I think I'll always wish that I had had the chance to hear you play the violin, or the saxophone. Both of which are favorite instruments of mine, and both of which you played.

I'll always miss you. We only got a year and a half together, as friends, but I'll always be grateful for it. You were such a great person, and I count myself lucky to have known you and been able to have so many fun memories.

But, as this flower reminded me, at your funeral, life still blooms, and still goes on. There's beauty everywhere, no matter if you see it or not. I miss you buddy, but I know you're somewhere now where your depression will never bother you again, where you'll always be wearing that huge grin that only you had, where you'll be laughing your great laugh that brought happiness to everyone. You're in a better place now, even if it's hard to believe sometimes.
Writing this blog, and thinking about it all over again definitely made me cry. We've shed a lot of tears for you, Lopo. Sometimes it still feels like a big joke, like you're going to jump out and tell us how ridiculous we are for crying over you, like you'll sit there and laugh for hours at the looks on our faces.

Rest in Peace Bean Bag. We miss you, and your ridiculous size 16 shoes.