If you follow me on any social media, you’ve seen that a friend of mine is dying.
The last part of that sentence was really hard for me to write. I don’t deal well with death. I don’t mean emotional collapse, I mean failure to even find a handle. Just writing such a simple statement, admitting this is happening to someone I have known for the better part of a decade feels surreal.
Several of my friends have written far more compellingly about dealing with P.G. Holyfield’s current situation. Matt “Fucking” Wallace explains why P.G. and his work should be a part of your universe. Chris Miller accepts the blame for the start of P.G.’s amazing creative path that ultimately intersected with so many of my friends and my own.
A new friend, Dave Robison, shared some thoughts on the recent passing of one of his loved ones that has helped give me more of a handle in general. Reading Dave’s advice, I choose to focus on the positive, to think about the quiet and calm P.G. has always radiated, the unexpected way he has brought joy to so many.
I have long been amazed how my modest interest in creating a podcast, just a little over nine years ago, has led me to so many amazing opportunities. The most common and easily appreciated is the making of new friends and acquaintances. The connections I have made specifically through sitting behind a mic and speaking out into the vast void of the Internet have connected me with the closest friends I have had in my entire life and profoundly shifted the trajectory not just of my day job but my entire career.
What I don’t dwell on as often is the loss of these connections. Sometimes it is mundane, the natural drifting apart that so often happens, especially with such a large group of connections held over such a long span of time. A few times, that I can still count on one hand thankfully, the loss is more irrevocable.
It seems trite, but in being open to those new connections, the possibility of loss is part of the deal. It doesn’t lessen the effects they have had on my life, I hope it merely sharpens them.
As I continue to struggle for a handle, not in the least because as I write this my friend is still though none of us can say for how much longer, I choose to believe that, to hope that in embracing the twining of finding and losing, that the good, the cherished, the love will outweigh the pain that is is already creeping in.