Tonight, I’m editing the last wedding of the season. One year ago, I shot the last wedding of the season (Oct 30), and then rushed to the hospital to be with Billy as he was treated for his second 24-hour seizure. I slept in the hospital, left to shoot an engagement session, and returned as he was discharged, pumped full of drugs, and unbelievably adamant about carrying out his years-long tradition of going to Salem, MA dressed as Winnie the Pooh (with Doug, his faithful sidekick, as Tigger). He was fresh out of a wheelchair/crutches/walker and still in that fentanyl haze, but he wouldn’t be talked out of it.

(My best friend and I in Salem, MA. One year ago tonight)

Tonight, he has been editing all day, and just left the house to get Chinese food for both of us since I have a cold. Sure, we have power (most people around here don’t), and are totally capable of cooking (we’re dicks). It may not sound like a huge deal, but it took a really long time for my friend to be able to go somewhere independently, and right now, he’s taking care of me.

We didn’t go to Salem this year, (the unexpected snow/power outages/etc made sure it didn’t happen) but in spite of everything that’s happened in the last year (including another horrible injury/setback), it’s nice to know that we could have.

My friend is walking around again (again), and if you didn’t know about his permanent nerve damage, you might look at him and think he’s totally fine. When you come that close to losing someone, you develop this view of milestones. It’s like living in an alternate reality. You can see the other dimension: the one in which he died, or was paralyzed. You see what life would be like (or what it wouldn’t be like), and you learn to value things so much more.

My friend went to pick up Chinese food for me. And it means the fucking world to me.