It has been a year since death entered my life. I had, of course, come to terms with the possibility of my own demise a couple years prior, which is certainly an encounter with the finality. But being left behind by someone I had a future with, whose being was seemingly, inextricably connected to mine, introduced me to the real line that once crossed can never be reconciled from. 

Just after last year's Summer Solstice was a tumultuous time for me. It marked the realization that the path my life had started down post cancer was not be the healing path I would need to fully recover my strong mental and physical self. Life, in the way it does, showed me what was working, helpful and beneficial, and what was sapping, inverted and corrosive. Change is almost never easy.  This shifting in the tectonic plates that were my life's foundation had been years in coming. And while completely destructive to my life and all I had hoped for prior to cancer, the relief from releasing all of that misguided focus and energy created a shuddering giddiness and awe at being alive to live, and to learn from tomorrow

Among all of this change, two dear friends lost their husbands - their young children's fathers.  The line between now and forever had been crossed. Perspective I had gained from facing my own mortality started to coalesce ever so slightly with what was now being mixed into my (and my friend's) reality.  

I had known people who died - OD'd, murdered, diseased - but none that I had GROWN with, traversed from one mountainous region of life to another with. 

One of these widows had shared all there is to share in life with me. We had shared a foxhole just outside the battle ground that IS the Hollywood young(ish) "artist" scene.  She went on to meet her husband and have the cutest little girl I have ever laid eyes on.  I never met her husband, but through the creepy magic of Facebook picture albums, I recognized in him the love that overwhelms a parent for their child.   

The other widow's husband was someone I would refer to as a lifelong friend - although we hadn't spoken in more than ten years, not for any reason in particular other than life moving us this way and that, the basic cycles of nearness and distance. We had plenty of time to introduce our kids, after all - life is long. Or so it seemed. We played in a string of bands together starting in the early ‘90s for five or six years. We explored every conceivable nook and cranny of human relation and relationships in practice rooms, stages, recording studios and rooms of ill-repute across the state. At one point, we were two of four people cramped into the cab of a little pickup truck driving to Eastern Washington and back. We were CLOSE.  He went on to squire and marry a woman who came into our circle as a world traveler stopping through on her way to somewhere more exciting. They found in each other the rare love that lasts through good times and bad, sickness and health. They had a true miracle of a son who is now one of my son's favorite playmates. But my son never got the chance to meet my friend

Both of these miraculous women have risen when most would fold. They've taught me still more about life and perspective. They've shown me that it's not over till it's over.

But don't sit around assuming you have the luxury of time. You don't. Tell your friends you love them. Make amends for your obvious wrongs. Discuss with people you love the misunderstandings that have soured your spirits. Hold your children.

And above all else, be good to yourself. 

I look outside and it's finally sunny in Tacoma. I love all of my friends. I love all of my family. And I am grateful to be alive. If we haven't spoken, please know I'm trying daily to be man enough to heed my own words. I'm coming into the summer of my life and actively trying to be the best person I can be.  For me. For my son. And for all the folks whose job it was to inspire us by burning twice as hot, but only half as long. 

Have a great summer everyone!

Drummer Geoff Reading - who writes a bi-weekly online column (Fridays) for the Weekly Volcano called "Holding Down the 253" in addition to his weekly Wednesday music column - has played music in tons of Northwest bands - Green Apple Quick Step, New American Shame, Top Heavy Crush and most recently Duff McKagan's LOADED - to name but a few. He's toured the world several times over, sharing stages with the likes of Slipknot, The Cult, Buckcherry, Korn, Journey, The Sex Pistols, Nine Inch Nails and on and on. He has called Tacoma home since 2005, and lives in the North End with his wife and son.