Sunday, August 23, 2015

I Text Dead People

A couple days ago, I picked up the phone to text my friend. But he's dead so I couldn't. Instead, a copious amount of tears ensued.

In grad school we wrote a paper together about the change in broadcast news in 1963 when the networks went from 15 to 30 minutes. We had late night pow wow sessions where we talked all about Cronkite, Huntley, and Brinkley. We read books, news paper articles, and watched clips about them. It was such an interesting story to try and insert ourselves into, even just as flies on the wall. We wanted to understand just a little bit of an era that encompassed so much passion.

I started watching the show News Room on Amazon Prime, kind of as my last hurrah of binge watching tv series before classes start on Monday. The opening segment of the first season consist of clips of those same famous, ground breaking news reporters: Cronkite, Huntley, and Brinkley. 

Naturally, I wanted to tell Dave about it. Dammit Dave, why do you have to be dead right now? I just wanted to talk to you. 

A few weeks ago, I went to Utah to visit some friends. Camille was in Utah for a book signing and meeting half way is way better than driving 24 hours to Alberta. It also gave me an excuse to stay with Giulia and geek out on Doctor Who. And, like always, when I'm in Utah I try and catch up with my cohort from my masters program so about half of us meet up for dinner in SLC. 

The main reason I went though, was to visit Dave's grave. I missed his funeral and graveside service because I was in Denmark. I knew though, that Dave's adventurous self would have killed me through whatever unconventional ghostly means necessary if I had come home early from my trip. So I continued globetrotting and made it as soon as I could to pay my respects. 

Part of me knows that he is in a better place, he's not in pain now, he wouldn't want me to be sad... all the cliché phrases you hear and say. But, I am sad. 

Driving around Utah and seeing all the places I'd been to with him made me sad. Seeing the grad lab at school made me sad. Remembering the time he saw me cry made me sad. Watching stupid TV shows and instinctively trying to text him makes me sad. Missing him makes me sad.  
I love you and I miss you Dave