A good friend of mine recently passed away. Passed away isn't the right phrase, but it sounds better than "killed by a taxi". I was sitting in front of my computer, finishing up a blanket for a friend, and thought "I really like that pattern that I made for Phil's vest. I wonder if he still has it." I went to FaceBook to write on his wall and saw people writing RIP on his wall. Everyone that knew he was shocked to hear that it happened, and it really shook me up. I thought everyone was joking writing RIP on his wall, his friends had done it before, and I was waiting patiently for him to write "You guys suck!" or "Fuck you guys". But it never came, and before I knew it there was link for his wake and funeral.
The adage "Life's too short" always comes first to mind, but nothing that Phil did ever showed that he lived it that way. He was charismatic about everyone that met him liked him immediately. He could be a bit crass and more than often vulgar, but there was never any malice in his voice, it was all just good fun to him. I told my best friend that I need to adapt a more "Phil" attitude with life. To not take people for granted, to apologize when I'm wrong, that sometimes pride is worth putting aside, to not take life so seriously, because in the blink of an eye it could be gone. I cried a lot the past week, I couldn't say his name without breaking down into tears, and every time I thought of a memory that he and I had made me have to stop whatever I was doing. It was crippling.
I've slowly been coming to terms with the fact that I can no longer text him, or call him, and that posts on his wall will now go unanswered, and I'm slowly forgiving myself for not calling and texting him more often. But I know that he wouldn't want me to mourn and be sad. He would want me to remember him as he had always been, happy and worry free. I can hear him sitting next to Yogi Berra saying "Look at all these broads crying for me".
Rest In Peace, Philip Pucciarelli
6/4/88 - 9/20/15
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