Hard to say it all –> say it right –> with the closing of Boundary Bay–> way more than a Brewery and Bistro. Way more than I can articulate.

Boundary’s opening coincided with our move to Bellingham. So for this one person it has always been here. Hard to imagine downtown without it. They’ve been so much to so many and so generous and so attentive and so professional and so classic and so family. And I am saying I’m just one person here outside the city line. Multiply me by a huge number of your choice and then square that and you still won’t have enough to explain the mark left by this one of a kind establishment.

They won awards of course, but my one person story starts and has forever vibed with their unmatched giving in  service/time/money/platform to so many amazing organizations and causes in our community. That’s a long sentence I know but Boundary is long. In particular to me and my family, real-true-generosity to the WDRC and also pretty much every place I’ve ever worked in Whatcom. Story goes on to remember the early years and the music. Jazz Nights and La Push. The music which grew up to be a major part of the scene for those who dig and do live music. Boundary at our wedding and at the funeral, fundraisers and functions. For the funeral they heard of the loss and just gave us the beer charging us only in exchanged hugs/tears. The Jamboree. The paintings on the wall. It’s cribbage tournaments and Mother’s Day brunches. Time I waxed that hustler in backgammon was special. It’s album releases/parades/outside movies/yam enchiladas/Bells/Ski to Sea/bike events and custom pint glasses. It’s Bellingham’s Back Yard and I got to watch my kids play there. Heck, I’ve even slung/served for them at a Bocce Tournament or two and now that I think about it checked IDs at a rodeo with Uncle.

Yes the People. I do mean the People.

There’s so much I’m not articulating quite right and again I’m just one. So let me put it this way–> you know how in Hall of Fame arguments they always ask “could you tell the story of baseball without Player X?” And if the answer is yes then Player X probably doesn’t deserve to get in. Sorry Player X, but for BB the answer is a full NO. You could not tell the story of Bellingham, or me for that matter without saying Boundary Bay Brewery and Bistro. Thank you Place. Thank you People.

Play ball

We are making it through.

The Shirells were of course always right. There are dark days.

Days that were supposed to be rainy but turned out sunny but are still dark.  Days we don’t know what’s going to happen. 

Mama why?  Even The Shirells don’t seem to have an answer.  Why-> even at my age I don’t know.   Some seem so sure or certain or don’t care or worked a way around it, but not me.  What I do know for solid is I love you today.  I love you tomorrow if we get it.  I love you all of them.  Even days like this.

My kids run in fields horses used to.

Be.           And Be there for each other.

El Dia

In an attempt to get rid of the junk I accidentally deleted my last voicemails from a friend who has passed. A spark of panic followed by frantic un-delete attempts followed by a downward cast head. Then I thought of the cloud and backups. I briefly tried the cloud but quickly retreated and let them go. I mourned the loss.

I say mourn because it felt/feels like that but I’m also getting how strange and perhaps silly this all is to feel the pang of digital loss. What a world the still living of us live in.

It reminded me of that time my AC/DC High Voltage audio-tape got pulled out of cassette and tangled and I could never get it rewound. Even in the analog realm there are these types of loss. Difference is I could always replace High Voltage, I can’t ever get those voicemails back.

I’m a nostalgic pack rat so I do have other notes/pictures/tangibles from this friend but there is something about a voice that is impossible to recreate. It is in fact a loss. I’m giving myself that grace.

All of our still living voices—> let’s listen extra hard to each other while we can.