For Peter


Here's the poem I wrote and read for Peter at his memorial. I'm very excited to be heading to New Jersey to spend time with one of his best friends, drink tequila, and hear all of her crazy stories of a man who was so damn incredible! 

I remember the whites and blues 

The yellow lawn chairs with wooden arm rests

the sandy asphalt crackling beneath my bicycle tires

Your house was small 

gray with green shutters 

a rectangle full of a spirit that breathed light into it’s otherwise dim space 

you were a man of intrigue 

Your intensity scared me sometimes 

but I liked that you didn’t talk to me like a child

You chose your words carefully and talked in a way that was slow and with intention

I remember riding my bike home to the other side of the island 

the blue jays off in the distance 

thinking you were special to me 

admiring your intelligence 

I promised myself then that I would never float through this life 

that I would question things 

that I would live with my heart on my sleeve

and that I would make you proud 

I don’t know why I wanted so badly to make you proud 

but I did and I still do.

There are parts of you I never got to know 

I know there was darkness, sadness, maybe loneliness

but I also know, mostly, there was light, joy, love, and passion. 

I know there was music, games of croquet, snowmen, two ducks and a goose

I’ll remember you listening to music in your kitchen 

while I floated in your hammock dreaming of the life ahead of me

not imagining I would be standing here talking about you in the past tense 

not imagining I would never get to ask all of the questions I was too young to ask then

not imagining that I could miss someone so much 

and certainly not imagining a world without you 

The only way I know how to honor you 

is to shoot from the hip 

to be unapologetically who I am 

to always seek the truth.

And when I am really missing you

I’ll turn up your music 

and dance around the kitchen 

because I know it’s just what you would do.