The Power Of Grieving — Even If By Proxy
By Stephanie Hallett
My friend Jeremy was silly. When he had a crush on a guy, he’d call him by a nickname — purple pants guy, ugly wig karaoke guy. He was also sweet. Once, when I was going through a particularly difficult breakup, he came over to comfort me and arrived to find me hiding under the covers wearing only a T-shirt and my underwear. Instead of forcing me up and out into the world, he came in, took off his shoes and then his pants, and climbed into bed to catch me up on all the America’s Next Top Model I’d missed while I’d been too sad to move.
Jeremy also took his friendships seriously. He invested in me, and others, in ways that made us feel certain our relationships with him would last a long, long time. When I first got engaged to a woman who was also a friend of Jer’s — the woman I later cried over in my underwear — I told Jeremy how much I wished she and I could someday have a baby together, but how we worried we would never be able afford the artificial insemination or adoption fees. Without missing a beat, he patted me on the knee and told me not to fret. He’d happily give us the missing man-part we needed to make a child. I squeezed him tight and told him we’d call the baby Taylor — his last name.
Things Jeremy loved included: riding bikes; drinking wine; learning new languages (he taught himself…
