TEN YEARS

He deserves better than an attempt to tie his passing to all that he missed – both good and bad – in the past decade. He deserves better than an attempt to connect the championship victories of his favorite sports teams over the past 10 years to some sort of divine intervention. He deserves better than a clumsy try at tying together lyrics from his favorite musicians into a tribute. He deserves better than flowery prose. He deserves better.

He also deserved better than being in the ground for the past 10 years. He deserved to see his daughter grow up. He deserved the chance to get rich. He deserved the chance to spend summers on the beach and Sundays on the couch. He deserved the chance to be a member of the bacon-of-the-month club. He deserved to make new friends and strengthen the relationships he had with the old ones. He didn’t deserve to suffer and he didn’t deserve to die.

Ten years burning down the road, the landscape has changed. We have all moved to different places – mentally, physically, geographically. We’ve married and divorced, loved and laughed. And yet, our sadness remains in the same place; under the now-lush tree that provides shade for a grave in a town called Tennent. Ten years later, our smiles are never truly full, our celebrations are never truly joyous, our lives are never truly whole.

We have learned to cope, to live with the pain, to blunt the sadness. But we have not forgotten, because the loss, the pain, the emptiness is always there. We have not forgotten his smile, or the way he commanded a room, or the burger-eating contests, or his Valentines Day wedding or his New Year’s Eve funeral. We have not forgotten his love of the Yankees and the Giants and the Rangers. We have not forgotten the concerts, and Cleveland, and the summer houses.

There is not a day that he is not in our hearts, in our memories, in our thoughts. And it is not a manner of actively trying to remember Anthony, because the activity is unnecessary. Those who were fortunate enough to inhabit his little corner of the world for even a few minutes know that Anthony is always there, maybe not at the head of the table anymore, but definitely a central part of the room. He is still there at every wedding, at every birthday party, at every ballgame. He is still there when we think about cheap McDonalds hamburgers and ex-girlfriends wearing soccer shorts, and music blaring from the Himalaya.

Ten years. It is an eternity and it is a heartbeat. Ten years. It is a voyage and a step. Ten years have passed and a day has not gone by that I have been truly whole. Ten years have passed and a day has not gone by that the sadness has lessened. Ten years have passed and a day has not gone by that I haven’t grieved for my best friend.