"A Different Kind of Shitty"

(Reposted from my Journal ...)

Letter to Joe, titled “A Different Kind of Shitty” (thanks chris9 for the line).

For the record – I’m not going to apologize for how long and / or sappy this is likely to be.

Joe,

I miss you already. So much. I’ve been talking to people about you and laughing and crying. I was going through photos and emails, dating years back. It’s been comforting, heartbreaking and awesome to relive all those moments, even those mundane things we would talk about that seem so much more monumental now, only because I want to capture each word you said to me, typed me or commented on this stupid journal, and hug it. You are such a delight to everyone who’s known you, and you have inspired so many to really rise above and learn things about love and friendship that we may have never learned otherwise. I know you have done that for me. I hope that you knew how much you were (are) loved, and how you will be missed. I’m amazed at the friend-collective that surrounds you and cherishes you; those beautiful people who were able to be there with you, holding your hands and feet, singing to you and enveloping you in an amazing amount of love when you passed, so fittingly to your favorite Beatles album. Amazing. Hearing about how it all transpired; so surreal and beautiful, completely fitting, and with a soundtrack that could not have been more perfect in any imaginable way, and it fills me with a weird sort of inexplicable happiness. This content sort of peace was not what I was expecting to feel – it certainly hasn’t been what I’ve been experiencing in recent months while you’ve been so sick. While I hate that you are gone from us, I am touched by all the strength and love that encircled you, and I feel certain that you drifted into a love-filled, beautiful sleep. You deserve peace and rest, free from all that terrible pain. You said in a big post, that you weren’t going down with a big-ass fight, and you didn’t. Your strength through this has also been inspiring. It’s unimaginable. Zane is sad. This is a first for him too. He keeps talking about you and wanting to do something. Today he decided that he wants to design and plant an “Octopus’s Garden” for you in our back yard, with pretty colors and various Joe-like things. Nina suggested we plant herbs because you and Jenn had trouble growing them. Zane is working on the design. He was looking up tumbled, colored glass on the internet tonight. As he told me, “you’ve only known Joe for part of your life. I’ve known Joe my whole ENTIRE life". I suppose I can’t really argue with that. He cried when I played “Yesterday” on the way to dinner with Nina and Brandon tonight. The Beatles are going to be hard to listen to, but it feels good to do so, and I think many people will feel close to you when they hear The Beatles, and especially Abbey Road. Back to Zane real quick - I wonder if you even know the impact you have had on his life. You would probably be surprised. He was so excited to hang out with you and Jenn back in November. You were going to build a subatomic particle chamber out of household items. You did warn me that it would be a “tiny bit dangerous”. You emailed me back and said:

“While you're partying, Zane will be playing with radioactive isotopes and cryogenic vapor. -Joe”

Turns out you were missing an item of some kind, maybe your shipment from Chernobyl hadn’t arrived on time?

In further email goodness that I was torturing myself with; I ran across a back-and-forth email we had about your health issues. This was shortly before the shit hit the fan the first time. Many of our emails were rife with some of the most foul language ever uttered or written in any form. Here's a note from me to you:

"Joe, You've overcome so much that this is going to be gravy compared, so fuck it. This is nothing. This won't get you. This jizz-guzzling, cockpunching, fucktastic, shitspewing procedure doesn't stand a motherfucking chance, so whatevs. You need to add "hospitals" to your (insult) generator and let me fucking contribute to that shit. -Dev"

And you responded with,

"On Thursday, I'm going to whip my bitch-ass bile ducts and liver into complete submission. Then I'm going to headbutt a doctor, explode an oxygen canister, and I might even rape a nurse on my way out of the flaming wreckage of what used to be a hospital. Look for it on the news -- the crawling subtitle onscreen will say something like "JOE'S PROCEDURE A SUCCESS; SUBSEQUENT RAMPAGE DESTROYS HOSPITAL, BLOWS NURSE'S MIND -Joe"

And these emails are going to soothe me; you have no idea how I will cherish these. I have a lot of them, and they’re all brilliant and hilarious. I’m so glad I have them.

Here’s one of your notes that I love:

"What the hell is up with the universe?
I swear, I'm going to find a way to get my Insult Generator to send
long strings of intricately profane insults DIRECTLY TO GOD.
It will be the most blasphemous computer program ever written (other
than Windows 95)
-Joe"

And after your gorgeous benefit event last summer, you said:

"I just wish I could have stayed later at the benefit thing last month. Every time I see a picture of you guys it makes me want to throw a big party and invite you. Or show up at your front door with fireworks, booze, and large containers of fried food. And whipped cream, which you could then apply to my wife's crotch, as is your way.
-Joe"

Ah the sick humor. I will forever get joy out of that gift of yours. You emailed me on my birthday and I wrote you back, telling you that I was as old as Yoda. Your response to me still makes me laugh:

"Devonie,
(voice of comic book nerd)
As old as Yoda? Heh, I do not THINK so. In the Star Wars universe, no one knows exactly how old Yoda is, but most agree that he is at least 700 years old. No one even knows what race he is. Although in the Expanded Universe series, it is said he is a "Whill", a race that recorded the early history of the Republic, including the first Sith / Jedi battles. So it is highly unlikely that you are as old as Yoda. Happy Birthday anyway. -Joe"

You will always make me laugh. Your sense of humor is a huge contributor to my being able to cope with your absence. I am comforted by your words, your warmth and boundless hilarity. Thank you for making this easier on all of us through your sense of humor. You know - Tonight, we were having dinner with Nina and Brandon, enjoying conversation and talking about you, and their visit with you and Jenn and everyone at your house yesterday. Suddenly the radio in the restaurant began to play Eric Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven”, and we all burst into some kind of laughing / crying, hysterically inappropriate fit, hearing your perfect imitation of Clapton singing “Would you know my name? If you fell out the window …” Yes – it seems you are already managing to somehow make inappropriate, ill-timed, sick jokes around your friends who just aren’t READY YET. How do you even DO THAT?

You are missed already, Joe. Missed hard and you're ridiculously, forever, loved.

-Devonie