This is a post from Monday in regards to a pic Brad sent me September 2017 from Wrigley. I'll post the photo-it's looking down the 1st base line.
This is a photo of the last time I spoke to a fantastic friend on Sept 1, 2017. He was enjoying a beautiful fall day at Wrigley, as only someone who has lived in Chicago can appreciate. While it's possible he was mildly rubbing it in my face that he was having more fun that me, it's more likely that he wished that I were there with him and wanted to share that moment. Yeah, he was that guy.
*Forewarning: friends, keep reading, those whom are easily distracted, move on.
We spoke briefly and I was elated to share this moment with my friend and even though our conversation was short as he was enjoying seats along first base and I was, well, not, he still never made me feel as I was intrusive on his day. Yeah, still, he was that guy.
Nevertheless, had I known that this was to be our last conversation, I would never have let him off the phone for something so trivial as "hey, wish you were here, but you're not"!
I know my feelings now were purely for selfish reasons, but I didn't want to interrupt what I know was a more fun and visceral experience, and shit, we've ALL said that to our friends more than once.
We all have likely had similar recollections with friends and family at this point in our lives, however unfortunate it may be, yet we'll never have the grace to know that now, RIGHT NOW, is the time to divulge our feelings, express our appreciation, or say if anything else: thank you.
We can't interrupt life as it is flying by, we can only hope to be awake when the fun things happen.
The "fun things" seemed to follow Brad like they were looking for inspiration (or an incendiary device) and Brad, whether via attitude, or disgust over boredom (possibly enhanced through medication), or sheer will to make the world at large pay attention, demonstrated the persona of what we all needed: fucking get on board with what was about to happen or hold my beer. Brad was certainly must see TV.
I appreciated Brad for the fun that he brought to my life but I appreciated him more for the spirit of creativity that was intrinsic within him. I've never met someone more driven to explore, to expand, or to question what he felt should be the status quo: and sometimes it was a fault.
For what it's worth, Brad was a good friend and was more capable of the requisite pleasantries that would be expected in any relationship (which I completely attribute to his mother-whom absolutely adored him) than more seemingly mature people regardless of age. It's one of the small things that I appreciated about Brad.
It's the small things in life that seem so easy and are more likely to be taken for granted such as a simple "thank you", or remembering dates, milestones, or favorite preferences.
Unfortunately we generally realize the loss of graciousness only when it is lost. I wish I had the acuity to remember all of what is special to the people I know. Brad did. I miss that because it was specific to Brad and it's what was endearing.
Brad's legacy is what we can derive from the good things he tried to influence. Think about how often you lie awake wishing you had said something that you truly felt or thought about a friend or acquaintance only to come to the realization that the moment had passed or that you let it pass.
Brad tried more than anyone I've met to not let those moments go. Flaws aside, we have this to ask of ourselves: What would you do? What COULD you do, had you had been more in tune to what your friends need?
I've been haunted to write what I feel about Brad, and believe me that this is the Cliff Notes, but if you knew him, you know: his spirit was intangible and now all we have is his spirit.