10 years ago today, Iggy turned around on highway 1 when our
friend, Tania, phoned him and invited him to her birthday…perhaps a casual
mention that I was there saving the table….and single. That is my version of
the story. Iggy would have told you that when I busted through the double doors
that night “pour some sugar on me” was qued from the skies above. That I was
wearing a black skirt and thigh high boots and apparently my curly locks were
catching gust from a Beyonce worthy wind machine.
This is the 1 photo I have from that night – my hair was
straight and I was wearing jeans.
Iggys gentle presence walked in that night and he helped me
save that table. I had never felt safer or more at ease. I didn’t need to fill
space with words, there was nothing to prove. He saw me.
I have a vivid memory from about 6 weeks later – driving down
highway 1 in that same red Camaro and reminding myself to appreciate that moment.
There was nothing significant about it, no grand gesture, no words spoken – I was
just sure. It was the place I referred back to when we didn’t see eye to eye, when
life would throw us a curve ball or …when the new ZL1 came out ß that was a stand-off.
Some days I feel like my life has just inched forward, sometimes I still have moments where I feel I was catapulted through space and time to wind up on my new path. Acknowledging that day 10 years ago is important. It means something. I fucking miss him. I miss his presence. His depth. His smile. I miss watching his tired eyes light up while he talked about me – and super charged engines or whatever. I miss the language we created. The way he treated other humans and animals. How he was so damn knowledgeable. I miss our future and the dreams we shared.
Profound grief is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. It shifts you and molds you. It reveals you.
No existential catapulting or new lifetime will keep me from
honoring your legacy. I love you and I will never stop saying your name. Happy