To Bill, Regarding Bill.

This is a re-post from facebook. I wanted to write something before the year was over. I started writing it the day after, in response to Mike Brody asking me to write something for Laughspin.com. What he wrote was way better, as this was kind of darker in tone and his was more celebratory. It took me a long time to finish because I had to start and stop so many times from getting overwhelmed. Anyway, it tells a bit of the story. As it is now about a month and 4 days after, I feel like adding more. Not going to happen, though. It isn't time yet. Read it if you haven't. or don't. Write your own and tell me where to find it. -Andy December 31, 2014 at 1:21pm I am sitting on a couch I always said I hated. It isn't uncomfortable, it's just that we never decided which side was 'My side' Mainly because you didn't care about that kind of stuff. You always said you were 'easy like Sunday Morning' Sitting a few inches from my feet are your shoes that you left there the last time you sat down. I've decided that that side is yours, if you don't mind. The shoes haven't moved. Not even when about 100 of our friends stopped by to make sure I was doing ok. And to make sure they were doing ok too. It was really good to have them there. Christ, it has been a bad couple of weeks. That Morning is still a blur. I have moments of clarity every so often, and when I do I see things my small brain cannot handle. It was the general concensus that you slept through Gus' memorial. I was going to give you shit about it, but started to get worried instead. But responsibilities took over and I had to pick up Graham becasue it was my Thursday night to have him sleep over. He went to bed without a fuss, and your light was still on becasue it was broken and you never felt like bothering our landlord about getting it fixed. How many nights you slept with the light on can't be counted. One of your charms that we all just shook our head at and muttered "That's our Bill". I dropped Graham off in the morning and remember shouting "Bill, get up. You're going to be late for work" before we left. I even texted you before I left Kim's parking lot before I headed home. And then I got home. It took two tries to make my hands work the phone to dial 911 that morning. I kept dropping it. Barely able to give details over the phone, the 911 operator was very patient with me. Paramedics came and so did the fire dept. They were just doing their thing they have to do. I was out on the porch. they told me to get some air. They came in the door and were gone within two minutes. I cried knowing they would have been there longer if there was anything they could have done. Looking back on what i am going to call the worst morning in my life thus far, I have to say that I am writing this as more of a diary of moments. Something for me to look back on in case the years following take anything away from me. Truth is, I doubt I'll forget anything and those fucking moments of clarity I spoke of earlier keep coming. I hate those moments. Maybe this is for you who were not there in those horrific first few minutes when I was the most alone I have ever been in my life. Don't think of this as a form of sick punishment. Just please understand that I have this incredibly awful series of images that I am cursed to live with and I need you to know that it changed me. I'm really not the same person I was before December 12th. I'm not sure what kind of person i am now. I am in that stage of grief where I am pissed off about everything. A stage that would probably be the one to avoid writing during. Yet here we are. I think that Mike Brody captured a moving tribute to you in what he wrote for Laughspin. It is only now that the Memorial service is over and some of your things have been taken away that I can try and sit down to write something without it taking a huge toll on me. But trust me, the toll is being taken still. The police were nice to me. Probably a good thing since I have met one cop I like, and he is retired and does comedy now. They told me that I should try and call someone to be with me. (I wasn't the most stable, yet still Minnesotan through and through in that I apologized every time I realized I may or may not have said the word 'Fuck' enough to make a sailor blush) That Minnesotan thing would come back a few hours later once I started making the calls to inform people. Apologizing over and over for having to tell people I normally don't talk to save for the occasional text that our friend was gone. Had another moment of clarity just then when I typed that. So the cops said they would stay with me because they medical examiner needed to come and take photos and do medical examiner stuff. See, they treat every death like a homicide until they know more info. At the point of waiting for this guy to show up, that is when Roni arrives. She was my 'first responder' and a major rock for me, though she was hurting just as much. I didn't tell her over the phone. I just asked her to come over right away. I know she knew the moment she hung up the phone. She's smart and I don't envy the car ride for her as she drove to the house. Nor would I wish that sick feeling as people must have had as they walked up the porch steps. How could I have told her? This whole fucked up mess was about an hour old for me. I couldn't bring myself to say anything but "please come over here as fast as you can" in the quietest voice I've ever had. Dick move on my part. Imagining now what must have been going through her head as she drove to uptown... I wasn't thinking clearly, but still. She stood by me as the medical examiner asked me/us questions. That guy's job is death. Dealing with it and poking it with a stick or filing paperwork or whatever. it must suck, that job. But still, the dude was kind of a dick. Cold and to the point. That is how we found out about the huffing. I've thought about that a lot. Wondering what could have made you start doing it. I've read angry posts and even angrier comments and power trip high horse soapbox rants. The only thing I can say is that I'm sad you were hurting & I wish you hadn't seemed alone in your suffering. I'm not mad about it. I'm just so sad that it took you away from us. Our frinds came pouring in the house. Showing up just to be around others who might be able to comfort them and to offer comfort themselves. There were bagels and the coffee maker should not still work for how many pots were brewed. That bottle of "The Good Stuff" that Roger gave me a while ago was opened. You know the one we were saving for our Holiday Party that we both knew would end up happening in March? Yeah, that one. I got glasses out for anyone who was there becasue I asked if it was too early for a drink. Everyone said no. Without thinking, I had an extra one for you. And that glass still has whiskey in it. It's on a shelf and I can't throw it out because I'm not ready yet. "Kill Whitey" as we raised our glasses. So many time since, people are saying that out of respect for you. I think you'd like that. There's more. There always is. Little details that I've tried to write about but can't. Big details I won't even begin to be able to talk about for a while. I'm not a good writer and I ramble on like my intros to comics. But I wanted to get something down. This doesn't capture everything. Maybe someday. I want you to know that You are missed with everything we have. Your Family is one of the strongest and kindest that I have known and your memory will live on in us. Just like we all mourned Kate's passing or Gus's, each of us will celebrate you too. Thanks for being my friend, Bill. I am comforted in that I actually said that to you once and you seemed to feel that it mattered. Tonight is the last night of this year that hadn't been that bad until early December. If there is any justice in the world, and there probably isnt, there will be some good that comes of your loss. Personally I can't see it now, but you had that way of having a positive spin on things so I'll try: The people you knew and called your friends are a bit kinder now. They might go the extra distance to cross a room and ask how someone is who might not offer personal insight. If we see someone struggling, we might just say something nice like 'I love you'. It might not happen too. we could all revert back to our cynical selves and not let our guard down until the next godforsaken trajedy occurs. But I saw so much goodness from people in the last month of 2014 that will stay with me a good long time. And if there is one thing I believe in, it's our friends. I'll end with something I said at the Monday that seemed like it was good at the time: Years from now, you will meet some young kid just starting out. They might be a comic. They might not be. But I want you to pull that kid aside, show them some kindness and say "Let me tell you about a guy named Bill Young" With love, Andy PS- Graham asks about you. I just tell him that you have gone away, but you love him very much.