The Corpuscle

The weather is finally turning consistently cold here in New York City. The leaves are all off now, milling about in the wind, waiting to be raked or swept up. The air this morning is clear and cold. The sun is bright.

It was on a morning just like this one...

Fifty weekends ago, I found out my friend Shannon Hamann had unexpectedly died by means of a terrible accident. Inexplicably, this news about Shannon still seems to be true. That's fifty weekends of my friend being unavailable for comment, as they say. This is unacceptable behavior on somebody's part. Somebody in charge needs to be spoken to. Harshly.

This week, while waiting for some sort of satisfaction on this front from the powers-that-be, I find in my inbox a note from Shannon's mom, Eloise.

Dear Friends of Shannon,

In a little over two weeks it will be the anniversary of Shannon's death.  Over the year we have comforted ourselves by various ways of remembering Shannon.  The Red Cross maintains a website that allows families to set up memorial sites for their loved ones.  Kenn, Heather, and I have set one up for Shannon.  We invite you to visit it and light a virtual candle if you are so inclined.  The website includes many photos from the memorial and gathering afterward at Shannon's favorite local restaurant, Snacky.  http://shannon-hamann.memory-of.com [ed.: sound file plays]

I want to thank you again for your support during a difficult time.  The fact that Shannon had so many friends was comforting to us.  Further, we would never have been able to put together Shannon's memorial and gathering if it hadn't been for all of your help.  We are doing well.  I don't think the pain will ever go away, but we are learning to live with it.  We also know that you miss him.

With warmest regards,
Eloise Hamann

If you knew Shannon, stop by and light a candle for him. Post a memory, or express your condolences.

Lots of pictures to look at. I have to admit they were a little difficult for me to cruise through, but I am glad they are there. They will get easier to look at.

You know... sometimes you forget what you are feeling, way down deep, as you go about your daily business.

I'm reminded again this morning, fifty weekends later: I miss him so much.