He was my friend and I’ll miss him
Her: What are you writing about?
Me: Peter.
Her: Oh, did you know him well enough to write about him?
Me: Well, his life is his story to tell. I’m just gonna write about my life and his role in it.
Pausing the usual nuthin again.
Almost exactly 17 years ago, I wrote about my buddy Mike, who was a regular in my kali class.
Older fella, I still remember that Mike had a six-pack at 65+.
Mike was the first guy that I knew as a friend that died.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t the last.
Mike died before social media so I’ve forgotten what he looks like.
But he was my friend, and I miss him.
Peter Moretti was like Mike in that he would always come to class and be a bit confused and not get certain moves because, like Mike, he was older.
But he never stopped coming and never stopped trying to be better.
This is him just a few days before he died.
His dedication, plus his incredibly easy-going and kind nature, was how I always saw him.
His Facebook feed was/is fulla things like him feeding birds like woodpeckers and ducks.
After knowing Peter a few years, I found that he was a karate instructor and fighter who could do things that I only dreamed about being able to do.
In fact, he just posted a buncha photos of himself as a young man two days before he died.
I realize now that Mike and Peter are essentially me.
They were both skilled and dangerous fighters that were once in peak physical shape.
But time takes its toll on alla us.
I figure that, in a few years, I’ll be the guy that people have to help with certain moves or things.
And they too will be surprised that I was once anything but an older fella.
In any case, I just saw Peter maybe two weeks ago. I worked with him some.
We weren’t close, at all, but we got along well.
He died in his sleep and left a buncha people that loved him and will miss him.
That’s a good way to go, if you’ve gotta go, I say.
Goodnight, Peter.
You’ve worked hard enough, and you’ve earned your rest.
Her: You don’t want to make his death about you.
Me: I get that, but I also don’t ever feel right telling someone else’s story.
Her: That’s true.
Me: It’s a delicate balance. I suppose the main point is that the people in our lives are part of the fabric of it and Peter was a part of mine. I’ll never see him again and he was someone that I always liked seeing.
Location: last night, the surgeon’s, drinking up a ton of rum
Mood: wistful
Music: You’ll have to learn, just like me and that’s the hardest way (Spotify)
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