Life is a rollar coaster.
As a mental therapy veteran there are certain sayings that I keep with me that help, one of them is the rollar coaster analogy. Sometimes your up, sometimes your down, and sometimes it's all so fast you don't know whether to scream, laugh, or cry.
This weekend I went to Philly to see my friend Blythe. She moved there months ago to go to the Physicians Assistant program at Drexel University. It was rough on both of us because we were used to only being a borough away and always being able to go to brunch on the weekends to have long face to face catch up sessions.
We keep in touch, but to see her in person again was awesome. It was great to see how well she has adjusted to the new town and to roll into a club where she knew a ton of cool people.
I drove down there with this guy Matt who lived around the block from me, was friends with all my friends, and we never really hung out before this trip. It was great because we were pretty much instant friends and had an awesome trip down listening to music and talking about life.
On Saturday, after partying until the sun came up I got a call from my best friend, Will. I was happy to hear from him, as always, but his voice was so different, his tone was flat, there was no hearty greeting - something bad happened, something awful, there was just miserable numbness. His father, a man that I hold very close to my heart as a wonderful and inspirational soul, died suddenly while mowing the lawn that afternoon.
And then I too was just numb misery. I called some mutual friends, and then napped until the sun went down.
When I woke up I was somewhat refreshed and ready to keep going through the motions of life - luckily the motions envolved driving with Matt and Blythe to Atlantic City to see Jim Gaffigan.
In the car Blythe revealed that the seats were second row. The experience of seeing one of my favorite living comics make eye contact with me while telling a joke I have heard and repeated a million times was trancendent.
It's been odd to have an all time low and high within hours of each other.
Now that I'm home and alone, I've had a chance to really let it all set in.
William Barrett Senior, aka Billy Bear Barrett was (weird to use past tense) such a perfect example of what a good human being should be. He didn't believe in the unexamined life he was always traveling around, learning different things, trying different experiences and loved to share the stories of his life experiences. He worked hard at his career and loved his children and their friends dearly.
The world has lost a wonderful man, and a great father.
I'm heading down on the rollar coaster now, hopefully crashing onto my bed and getting back on tomorrow, whatever it may bring.
Most likely it will bring the question- "How was your weekend?"
and I think the only answer that sums it all up is: significant.