Farewell

Maybe I'll See You in the Passenger Seat

All the omens were there. A stirring in my belly that someone close would be departing. The most exquisite song from a dear human in my life confirming that loss is coming so I can “sing the blues”. A squirrel dying in my hands after helping him cross the busy street. He looked up at me as I pet his head then took his last breath. I felt you were close, death. Yes you are always close. That’s what being truly alive is about. Isn’t it? Honoring the fragility of life.

When I got the call I was shocked. I believe I am still in shock. Dearest friend I love you. Thank you for making sure I was fed when I was living on a diet of drugs, skittles and clove cigarettes. For coming to my dance performances when my company was just starting out, your wife whispering in my ear “yours was our favorite”. For coming to my boyfriend’s funeral. For trying to understand addiction. For driving all the way to San Mateo to see me after rehab and treating me to an authentic Vietnamese experience- feet, eyes and all. Thank you for the many gestures of love and kindness. The best part is this is how you treated everyone. This is how your family treated everyone and this is part of why you were so successful. This is why the world is grieving, not just me. It’s not surprising given your escape from war and being an immigrant. You learned the hard lessons early on and knew what was most important in life while the rest of us are just catching up.

When I came to work for you on Valencia Street in 1995-2000 in San Francisco I didn’t realize how lucky I’d become; gaining a new family. How special I always felt when I was around you even when others gawking in admiration were not around. Though you were famous, to me you were just my friend. A guardian angel watching out for that 20 year old who was so lost and wild.

I have cried everyday since you left and cry as write this. In the Jewish tradition we sit sheva which is the hebrew number for 7. We sit for 7 days to grieve and mourn. Talk, cry, and laugh about the departed so the body and brain can process the loss. Shoving it down and getting on with life is a great tragedy that society deems normal. I refuse.

So much I didn’t get share with you now that I’m all grown up. All the conversations we didn’t have and things in common: both having parents (or a parent) who are immigrants, how giving back to the world is the most important thing, how we met our significant others by walking our dog. I guess I wanted to make you proud Charles. To show you your efforts to support me made a difference. I would have loved to have treated you to a meal at Chez Panisse or Zuni. Your favorite spots. Just to show my gratitude.

How is that that a man the world loves for his generosity and innovation is gone form this plane? We need you more now than ever. With a rise in evil and greed, self centeredness and self consumption, we need an unwavering heart. I don’t understand the math behind death. Just when I thought I have cracked the code I see there is no order. Volcanoes and tides, choirs and clerks, forest fires and lines at the bank. It makes no sense. My commitment to honoring you: keep giving back to the world.

Zac often visits me in the driver’s seat especially when Neutral Milk Hotel comes on. Perhaps instead you’ll join us at the dinner table as Les and I fumble through one of your recipes. May your power of love and generosity be contagious years to come as you turn back into beautiful magic. I will gladly sing the blues for you.