He's Leavin...

...on a jet...Harleyyyy


Well, we did it, we put that boy Ilaiy on a plane tonight, for San Jose, CA. He's been so much a part of my life, and of our lives, that I just can't not acknowledge it.

My kneejerk reaction is to hurry and tell you about this wonderful friendship, and how we met (I offered him a seat at my dry cafe table (under an awning) during a thunderstorm (we said "h'lo" for months before saying more); and who he introduced me to (Marcy and Mike and Atef and about 100 more that are drawn to him).

And for some reason I think you should know how special this guy is. He was sounding board when my son and I fought. The weekend that I found out that my mother had Alzheimer's, he checked in when I was paralyzed with grief, and, when I was bouncing off the walls, talked with me at an outdoor cafe until 3 a.m., until I knew I could only go home and sleep.

We had a few childish arguments, one while he was dropping me off at my car, in a parking lot. I slammed his car door and stormed off in a huff. He, in turn, parked his car behind mine, blocking me in. I rolled my window down just enough to put my lips out and threaten to open a can of Monster Truck Whoop-ass on his car. He knew I was bluffing, and stood there calmly rapping his knuckles on the roof of my car, driving me nuts and refusing to let me go, until we'd talked it out.

We have otherwise laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more.

And I wanted to tell you all of these things, but then I thought, "Oh, for chrissakes, Lori, he's MOVING, he's not DEAD!"

And all that other stuff sounded too much like a memorial, so I decided that maybe I should just zip it...

...and instead...

...choose to dance.

Because I have a lifelong friend. He's going to thrive in his dream job. Because he will visit us, and we him. Because I love his family, and they me, and us.

And we will continue to

Laugh.