i want to remember him, although if i remember him too much, it makes me cry.
we’ve got a lot of pictures, but there won’t be any new pictures.
Guy Robichaud Writing Award : Terrance Mckittrick : Mon, March 26, 2007, 9:41 AM
last september with a few fellow high school juniors.
a poem by Guy, for his girlfriend
Your Face is a Space Station.
Each freckle is a planet,
or a pancake
frying in zero gravity
with spacemen swimming in your nuclear batter
orbiting dietcoke moons and
Ice Pack Black(Holes)
[how could earth be beautiful enough for her
her face is a galaxy]
eyes are twin motherland suns
living welts of Brownness
Brown like what tree trunks dream,
Brown like where james Brown shoots up that Brown stuff,
Brown where it all began and where it shall return to
in the end
big bang eyes
to find a reason or a promise.
or any trace, a smudge or a footprint.
a decoration from the cake, which was in the shape of a big pink hat. Guy liked to wear hats.
click below for eulogies by this young man’s parents
to attend a memorial service for my nephew tomorrow. Now, it seems like I should have something to say about this, something about feelings, something sad, heartbroken, but I feel detached and numb, afraid to think of Guy’s face and his laugh, the way his cheeks pulled his mouth up into such a broad grin. my heart sort of sinks when I think about that, and the aural memory of his voice, his kind sarcasm, if there is such a thing– there was such a thing, for sure, in Guy, but I’ve not seen it in others.
Here’s Guy helping me out with my workshop at Bumbershoot a few years ago, with the other kids, and Anne Elizabeth Moore. Guy choose the Kimmie Gives The Finger t-shirt.
And hey, thanks for all the kind comments. You guys are the tops and I wish the best wishes for you.
the news from Guy’s mother, my idol:
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2006 08:43 AM, CST
Guy had another good night, and with some brief semi-awake times. I thought an episode of The Simpsons might get through the fog in a way all our I-love-yous could not, so at 7:00 p.m., I turned on the T.V. and put the speaker gizmo next to Guy. Sure enough, he opened his eyes and looked one by one at the three faces focused breathlessly on him. When he closed his eyes again, I asked him whether he was having a good rest, and he gave a barely perceptible nod and then got back to the business of resting. We were all so happy. Around 4:00 this morning, something woke me, and I looked over to see Guy sitting up in bed with his eyes open. I went and sat next to him and put my cheek against his. He rubbed his head against mine very sweetly. I called Jerry to join us, and the three of us sat for a moment that way. I asked Guy if he wanted to go back to sleep, and just like that, he crawled back under the covers and comfortably drifted off.