2005-02-26 || 1:49 p.m.

|| our joe. ||

the nice thing about all this is right now and over the past few days i have been able to envision joe so clearly in his purest flanny form, unencumbered by illness. what he looks like and how he says things and that way he shakes when he laughs. how his hands get drawn up to his face when he's uncomfortable and the way he shakes his head in that mock disapproval and how he uses that baritone voice to sing to songs on the radio. my head and heart are filled with him, and i like to think that's what should happen when someone leaves like that. you get flooded with everything about them, and from that flood all kinds of things stick that you will be able to keep with you forever. he was everywhere yesterday. i don't know if it's my ghosty proclivities or all those episodes of crossing over, but i kept seeing him with us. laughing at every time the deacon got his name wrong. singing to 'on eagle's wings,' the catholic church standard we sang together once in the car while bonding over our catholicness. walking with us down that old street in benicia when brian was trying to find the alley with the perfect view of the delta and trains and shipwrecks.

after the funeral brian and owen and i went back to his family's house. his brothers were sitting in suit pants and shirts and ties in the open garage going through joe's music, stacks and stacks of cds and boxes of records. a box of videotapes and a box of NMEs. i think that was the most surreal moment of all this, that and after the vigil when we all went through hundreds of pictures he had amassed over the years (shocking to find pictures and pictures of yourself in someone else's belongings. finally driving home the point that you were involved in this person's life, truly.). his brothers were trying to categorize his music and divvy it all in piles for his seven brothers and sisters and all those nieces and nephews. joe has the most enviable well-loved music collection. they kept asking owen, 'is this punk? what would you call this?' and it was all very matter of fact and i was grateful for that. brian found the first mixed cd he had made for joe. owen found the jordy cd michael and joe had listened to at the clay theater until a woman came into the lobby to complain she could hear their laughing over the movie. his brother handed me the clean anthology because i breathed 'oh' when he pulled it out and looked at it. i got joe's vhs copy of 'the warriors' since i mentioned it in the story i told at the vigil.

i really can't believe he's gone.

brian and owen and i followed the family to the cemetery for the burial. we stood in a semicircle outside the large ring of family, and i felt like we were representing all of those people who should have been there as well if not before me: joe's family of friends. i got to hug every one of his brothers and sisters, and what they said to me breaks my heart more than anything. his family is remarkable and i am so angry we didn't get to know them with joe around. after the ceremony i couldn't help laughing at the idea that joe's new eternal roommate and bosom friend is oliver fritters, a world war II veteran who lived from 1923 to 2003. i imagine joe with his fancy beer and beige knit cap and oliver with his cigar and military hat, sitting in ghosty lawn chairs discussing tv shows and movies and chuckling. when we walked back to the car owen whistled the odd couple theme.

last night a lot of his friends met up at paz and scott's and i think it was the most meaningful time for everybody. we drank a lot and got to know the people we had only heard joe mention by name. we sat on the couch and in circles on the floor, spilling beer on the carpet and trying to win over the animals and little uma. we were all thoroughly exhausted and bleary-eyed and punchy. at midnight we had a toast and went outside to pour some out for our homie (joe was so there right then, i am sure of it. more than at any time.). we somehow broke into a spontaneous recitation of 'our father,' as it had been prominent throughout the past few days. i can't remember anything that was said but everything was funny. feeling so fortunate to know and love so many of the people joe held so dear to him (i kept thinking that at the vigil and funeral and again late last night: how strange it was to attend these ceremonies right alongside some of my very best friends. trying to reconcicle the thought pattern that this must be a celebration since all these people are here: karen and bryan, owen and kelly, my brian, becky, joanna and sara and matt and john and david and jarron and it could exhaust you, the love of all these people). we started the most epic game of trivial pursuit but by 2:30 it was losing steam fast and the answers were becoming more unintelligible (bill crosby of crosby, stills, and nash. carl costner won an academy award for dances with wolves. i yelled out 'touch me i'm dick' in reference to the movie 'singles' and you would think no one had seen the movie before.).

and now it's saturday again.

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