ilyĀIMY

March 7th, 2021. It’s March.

Michael Amster says:

Rob, so much loss…so much pain. Even the rituals that help us cope with loss, have been lost to the pandemic. I too am sad. A year gone by, so many experiences have been missed.

But still we are here. We have adapted. We have coped…sort of. But we are here, and the Sun will rise in the morning. Another day. I feel that things will begin to return to ‘normal’…but even that will probably not look the same as the old normal. But still we are here and life goes on.

Take care my friend. Stay safe. Hug someone.

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robilyaimy

6 responses to “March 7th, 2021. It’s March.”

  1. Michael Amster Avatar
    Michael Amster

    Rob, so much loss…so much pain. Even the rituals that help us cope with loss, have been lost to the pandemic. I too am sad. A year gone by, so many experiences have been missed.But still we are here. We have adapted. We have coped…sort of. But we are here, and the Sun will rise in the morning. Another day. I feel that things will begin to return to ‘normal’…but even that will probably not look the same as the old normal. But still we are here and life goes on.Take care my friend. Stay safe. Hug someone.

    Reply
  2. Amy Law Avatar
    Amy Law

    I hear you. I love you. I’m available for hugs and walks and investigations of the yard for babysneks if desired. (Mom found two when she visited this time last year.) *love* to you and Kristen.

    Reply
  3. Jimmy Avatar
    Jimmy

    Hey, Rob…brother. In all of this, all the pain, the loss, the fascination of it all, I look most forward to seeing you again and giving you the hug that means it is all over. Love you…

    Reply
  4. Uncle John Avatar
    Uncle John

    Having also recently lost someone from not only my distant past and who was also a brilliant musical collaborator and friend for almost 50 years, I know what you mean about never dreaming you’d get old–or how so many others along the way didn’t. Maybe they made an early exit, or just didn’t make it as far as us who are of a similar age as them or even older, but it always tends to make us realize our own mortality–and to make us value every day we have left a little more. It makes us realize the brevity and uncertainty of life, and to want to tell our family and friends what they mean to us, because we may not get that chance again–since we’re reminded that nothing in life is certain or guaranteed.Along the path of my own life, I’ve met a lot of people who’ve brought me joy, and whose company I’ve enjoyed whenever our paths have crossed. I just want to say that you and your group are among those, Rob. I’ve felt that after meeting you all way back in the mid 2000s, that I definitely added to the number of those I consider real friends. Just wanted you to know that in your time of loss that you still have other friends, and though you may not see us all very often–or at all–it doesn’t mean we don’t want you to, or that we don’t look forward to our next meeting. Because we do, you know?

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  5. Tracy Buchanan Avatar
    Tracy Buchanan

    I don’t have the words to ease the pain. I don’t have the full knowledge of the backstory. In the same year you’re referencing, through IlyAIMY I feel as though I’ve found my soul in a world thrown upside down and twisted inside out. I feel as though I’ve known you forever. I feel like I’m home. I say this to help highlight the fact that even in the midst of so much loss, chaos, madness, void… there is something good that can be pulled from it. You feel this pain because you felt the joy. As sad as it is, they coexist. You only know the depths of both by knowing the vast contrast of both. And it has to be a beautiful thing. I empathize deeply, and am sending so much love.

    Reply
  6. Rae Avatar
    Rae

    *boop*I wish you cool new patches for your jacket and ice cream sundaes for Kristen.l💜ve,rae

    Reply

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