Oh, Did We Sing....

When I started this blog in March of 2003, it was called "The Abyss".  I started it because I needed an outlet.  A place to vent, share, write, brag, cry, and throw tantrums if I wanted to.  After all, I was the mother of three teenagers. It was better than drinking.  Okay, who am I kidding? I did that too.

In what today seems like an eternity but was really only two years, I made friends pretty fast out here in the ether. My blog family grew. I "collected" treasures from all over the world and put them into my blog basket. They listened, they commented. I went to their "houses" and I listened and I commented. Soon, real life phone numbers were exchanged, and real life adventures were shared.  Real life everyday friends were doling out warnings about "stranger danger" and asking questions like how I as a mother could put my family at risk by sharing so much with people you don't really know. They would admonish Charlie for "allowing" me that much freedom, or they would roll their eyes and call me crazy. I shrugged my shoulders and carried on. I received so much love and acceptance from my blog family that it really didn't matter to me what people who lived in my 3D world thought.

This blog was my saving grace. The family I gleaned, the treasures I collected, the world I was a part of here in the Blogosphere rescued me.  Soon "The Abyss" became a happy world. My writing blossomed. My stories came to life. My joys overflowed. And one day, my daughter said to me that I needed to change the name of my blog. "The Abyss" did not fit anymore.  I remembered an email I received from my darling friend Hot Toddy, wherein he said:

    "Your entries are like a plate of warm cookies with a side of whiskey to me. Just the right mix of comfort and shenanigans."

That's how "Warm Cookies With a Whiskey Chaser" was born. It came forth from the most appropriate place; Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven.  The irony and joy of that, for those who knew him at this time, perhaps even later in life, was that dear Toddy, by his own admission, was a disaster in the kitchen. But for me, he's the "Baby Daddy" of my blog.  He'd laugh at that and ask me if Charlie minded. As with everything in my life, my husband never minded. He was joyful in my joys, happy in my friendships, proud to be a part of a shared world that made me smile, and laugh, and love.

I know this is a weird way to pay homage to someone; to talk about my own blog. But the truth is, I really don't know of another way to express how important this family was, and is to me, and how so much of my life was filled with the wonder of the souls who allowed me in.

Yesterday, after getting a message from Byrne, and feeling the great disturbance in the force at the loss of beloved Toddy, I first called Auburn Pisces because I knew she would need a hug, or ten. After leaving her, I sat down for a long time in quietness, with Kili across my lap and occasionally nudging me in the neck with his nose. Then, I did the only thing I could do with my helplessness; I came to the sanctuary of the Blogdom, and went straight to the Toaster Oven.

I read, and I read, and I read.  I stayed there for hours; crying, laughing, crying, laughing.  The man had a wicked sense of humor.  As MzOuiser said as we shared our shock and pain; "He was the funniest MFer" and we both shared our favorite posts of his.  She said she had just reread "Reader Testimonial", or as she likes to call it "Magma Mouth". I responded with "OMG! I just read "Seething Cakes of Hatred".  We laughed together. Just as I'd moved from crying to laughter with Aub hours earlier.  That is the real treasure, and the real pain.  We will have these memories. We will have this blog and his words. But no more will be made. Our great loss.

Once MANY years ago, when I was going through a really rough patch in life, I asked Rocket Man to play substitute "bartender" here at WC2. The sweet man that he is, he took on the task with love and care.  He asked our blog family to take turns writing posts. Every post was loving and comforting.  Every post an outpouring of love like I had never felt before. I think back on the warnings of "stranger danger" from friends and family with good intentions. How much smaller and less loving my world would be without this blog family who have loved me through tragedies and grief.  How blessed I am to have words like Toddy's, and others bestowed upon me.  Not only on this blog, but on his own where he honored me with posting about his new baby niece and me in the same entry.  There will never be a world like the blog world again. To me, that was joy, and caring, and actually being a part of someone's life, though far apart.

I counted.  On my own blog, I have no less than 100 posts that mention him.  Even more right after our actual first face to face meeting for Aub's Birthday at the Coast.  There was so much unmentioned. So much love as I rode with him in "Sven", his white pickup truck, from Portland to Lincoln. Hours and hours of talking about life and love and family. Sitting in the rain listening to Patti Griffin's "Heavenly Day" and both of us with tears rolling down our faces and saying how grateful we were for this moment.  How very grateful I was to Aub for sharing this beautiful, beautiful soul with me.

This grief will change into something less painful. At least for me. I cannot begin to fathom the grief of Aub, of his mother, of his sister, of those who lived in his everyday world.  I can only share in the wonder and the joy of having called that Knight in Shining Armour, that sweet loving spirit, my friend.

I will remember calling the floor of your Portland apartment a roller coaster, and you pushing me around your tiny living room in your wheeled office chair, back and forth, while I read your Amy Sedaris "I Like You" book.  I laughed so hard I got the hiccups.

I like you Hot Toddy.  You will always be my favorite apron-adorned kitchen disaster-slash-carny.

I will remember and treasure, with unending joy, the memory of standing on the cushions of a fireplace hearth with you and Pony in a beach house on the coast of Oregon, and belting out "Popular" from "Wicked" at the tops of our lungs.  Oh how we sang!

I love you Hot Toddy.  You will always be my Glinda.

I promise that you will always live on in my heart, and with my words I hope to honor you.