Stories: Who We Have Lost

Black Dress Socks, Gym Shoes, and Short-Shorts

Who did you lose to Covid 19? Timothy Thill

I take a few deep, slow breaths on the drive to work, preparing to face the good people and play-act as my old self. From behind their masks they will say, “Good morning,” and I will add the letter “u” to my reply in my own private little joke: “Good mourning!”

In this solitude, I think of you on the other side of the world, buried in paradise, where the leaves never brown and snow never falls. Did you know that your second family gave a Mass for you? I watched a video clip of it, and it was lovely, but the service was in a language that neither of us understands.

I would have liked to have held my own service here, where I would have served the baked mostaccioli, Italian beef, and deep dish that you craved. I would have eulogized you. I’m not sure exactly what I would have said, but I think I might have poked fun at the black dress socks, gym shoes, and short-shorts that made up your weekend uniform. And I might have described what a passionate hobbyist you were, giving your full heart to each new interest, from crossword puzzles to autograph hunting to big band music. I might have shared how some of my warmest childhood memories involved hanging around you while you shaved, watching your slow, careful movements while we talked about matters small and large.

I look for any piece of you in this city you loved, but nothing easy comes to mind. My imagination wanders to some small, forgotten corner of the courthouse where you worked, where a molecule of yours might lie, sleeping, waiting for an agitating broom to release it to space.

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