Sinking In?

I have been thinking about what I wanted to write here for over a month now. I wanted to say the right things that would be a credit to what Joe meant to me. Unfortunately, I don't think I can put much of what I feel into words.

I think the first night I actually talked with Joe was at YiMay's during a Nintendo Night gathering, to which I'd brought an Atari 2600 collection of games. Joe kept wanting to play the old Atari stuff rather than the fancy-pants new games. After that, there were several times when Joe and I would go on nostalgic conversations about Sesame Street, the Muppets, Gigglesnort Hotel, Sid and Marty Krofft, or other strange phenomena related to being kids in the early 80s.

I think it was when Joe invited Jennifer and I to go out to Canyon of the Eagles for his birthday in 2005 that I got to know so many of the nice people that I call friends now. That trip was a great weekend getaway, and I still remember it fondly.

I was lying in bed the other night and not sleeping. The house was quiet, and for some reason, I thought about Joe for the first time in a while. I remembered hugging him that last time. I remembered that at some point while he was still able to walk around a bit, I made him laugh. In retrospect, I think I can see that Joe did what he wanted the way he wanted, without exceptions. I'm not sure if his death has really sunk in or not. I still keep thinking that he's out there doing his thing. And I'm still trying to put words to my feelings.