A Tree shows signs of Trauma in its rings

The progression of time leaves behind a wake of morbid anniversaries that torture the soul. It’s inevitable, the only way to avoid this is to become one of these memories. My mental calendar is scarred with dates of lost friends, family, and heroes. Last evening I felt strength in my sadness for Our friend Stitch. I know he was up there casting a spiritual flood gate to hold back my tears. I wasn’t sure why I felt so strong, as my usual reaction on a two year anniversary of losing someone is a river of tears flowing into my beverage. But alas, here I was wondering if Stitch and O'Leary were passing a joint looking down on all of their friends trying to shield the sadness. It was the strength of my friends' voices today sharing my pain, which had lifted my spirit and kept my sanity in check. I drifted to sleep trying my best to have my thoughts reach Stitch like a magical game of telephone.
On a visit to Scranton PA, I ran into Stitch when I pulled in. I stopped and he helped me try to locate Mike Cannon, who was no where to be found... Not unusual... So I wound up with Stitch all night walking around town party to party, searching for Mike, and by the 4th place we had forgot we were looking for him. At the 6th place we got to Mike was there and wondering what had took me so long... It was in Stitch’s nature to take care of people. That night wasn’t a random event, it was who He was. We just mask the importance of the kind of person he was by remembering it as a great night we partied together, and not saying he "took care" of me that night. And at 20 years old- most of us needed taking care of.
Almost pushing 30 those days seem like yesterday. And I appreciate that Stitch is still looking out for me.