I only post to say I’m still alive. I miss some of you who are also quiet or dead or forgotten.

Sup?

Rest easy circlek it was a pleasure knowing you.

Not sure who knew or remembers morganofthefay on here. Just passing along that she passed away back on Sept 18th quietly in her sleep. I don’t know much beyond that. Figured I’d put it out there in case there is anyone left that I knew from the Talker days.

I still haven’t died.

Ping

Still alive. Hope you all are too.

Charlie "Tagger" Tilley born:?? Died Oct 24th 2012

Charlie was, without a doubt, a rescue. He saved my parents. He saved them from the silence of an empty house. He brought a joy to my fathers life that no animal I have ever known. While Smokey was undoubtedly moms, and ours. I still use his picture as my avatar online. Charlie was Dads. There is a picture I took one day a few years ago. Mom was taking a nap on the Futon. Dad was asleep on the bed with his arm over Charlie. Both of them sawing logs. Dad used to say that for every bite of food he took Charlie got one too. I don't doubt that for a minute. Even after Dad was gone he was never hard up for a few table scraps or a crust off a sandwich.

Charlie was a good boy. He wasn't perfect. He was a runner who had no problem bursting through a screen to escape. He used to whine during the NTV bumpers with the provincial flags. No idea why. He ate a whole chicken off the kitchen table once and he loved cat food. And cat poop. He also was terrified of thunder and fireworks and would hide in the bathroom if he heard a hint of either But he was a good boy. He loved having his belly rubbed and being talked to and just getting a scratch to say hello. If you arooed at him enough he would make the most godawful sounds and if you left him home alone the whole neighborhood could hear his mournful howl.

I loved him. I called him my brother. He was actually less hairy than Dave so it wasn't that far of a stretch. He loved Kate. He would just about wag his ass off when he heard her pull into the driveway. On his last day he got to see her and spent much of his time laying almost completely across her lap getting lovings from his favourite sister.

I was told that Mom and Dad didn't want a big dog. They wanted a small one like Smokey was. But Dad saw Charlie and wanted to at least take him for a walk to see how he was. Charlie is strong. And just about pulled the arms off Dad. But it was excitement. Not aggression. Charlie didn't ever show aggression. Not to anyone but the cat. And cats are dicks. That's just facts.

Dad told Mom that if they didn't take Charlie. No one would. He knew that. Charlie was special. But a handful. A dog that would cause problems. He would break doors, and he did. But it was worth it. To see those big brown eyes try to understand what you were saying. To feel him cuddle into you when he was cold. Or to hear his tail smack the floor just because he saw you. Charlie was a special dog. He might have been 12. He could have been as old as 20. We don't know. But he is gone now and there won't be a day that we don't have some memory of him. But we are glad we had the chance to have him as such an amazing part of our lives

Its about the time we lost Dad.. We were all sitting around him. I was on the floor holding his hand.. Watching his breathing slow.. and slow… and stop.. and the whole room was dead silent.. I just rubbed his hand and closed my eyes and listened as he took a shallow sigh and was gone.. his whole body sort of.. twitched.. like his skin rippled for a few seconds. My aunt who is a nurse checked him and we all just didn’t move.. and that was it.. He was gone.. We all kissed him goodbye. I hugged him. We stayed till he got cold.. We gathered up all of our stuff.. Said goodbye one more time. Moved all the chairs we had stolen from the rectory back in there.. and left.. And that was the last time I ever saw him..

He would have been 63 this year.. in just a few weeks actually. He should be playing with his grandson.. and smiling that big goofy smile that came out so seldom at the idea of being a grandfather again..

We should be cooking steaks and lobster today celebrating that. Instead I am sitting here.. typing this.. Feeling like there is a hole in my chest and trying to stop crying.

When Dad died he was cremated. We buried part of his ashes.. Which I never really understood but thats what mom wanted and who I am I to argue?
The rest was sealed into a small wooden box with a moose, and a lake with fish jumping carved into the side.

His friends that he went hunting with every year took it up to the cabin they would go to and left the box on a stump at the back of a clearing.

I wonder if the box is still there.. What the weather has done to it.. If it was blown off the stump by the snow and the wind..

I wonder if anyone else has walked through that clearing and saw it and wondered what it was..

In Chicago. Leaving for grand rapids shortly. Last night was the first night I didn't talk to my girl on the phone in almost a month. Life is good. Film at 11