We went to see the Springsteen concert. I wasn't really blown away, but what made the evening for me was watching Jack and Michael experience the show. They had a good time but got tired.



We fed them plenty of Coca Colas but it still got pretty late for them on a school night.



Mom and Aunt Abby and Uncle Andy loved the concert. I don't think I will see Bruce Springsteen again. I have great memories from the 1970s and the 80s and I want to remember him that way.

Hen, this is something I started writing a while ago.

I am writing to you high above the earth. I am on an airplane flying to Los Angeles. We are flying straight into the “season of sadness” which is October (your birthday) to December (your deathday). This is the time of year where feelings about you are intensified – which means in this case, they get stronger. Just the other day I was on the bus on my way home and I started to cry.

Here is what happened… I was listening to Bruce Springsteen and thinking about how Jack is going to go to his first rock concert. If you haven’t guessed, I am very excited for him. I quickly switched to thinking how this would have been your first real concert too. You went to see Lucinda Williams once, but you were in a car seat so that doesn’t really count.

In Mom’s eulogy she said you were the encore of a Springsteen show.

Then I clicked around on the iPod to find this band I like called Marah. Mom and I went to see them the other night in Virginia. I have a short attention span and switch between songs the way I switch channels on TV. They have a song called Crying on an Airplane. That made me think about all of the times that I have been on an airplane and started thinking about you and ended up crying. I don’t know if it is looking at the clouds or feeling just very alone, but I have these “Henry Moments” where I feel close to you and very sad at the same time.

Mom told me how she ended up crying the other day. I think she described to me the “progression.” Here is how it went. We were having everyone over for to eat on Sunday morning, more on that later, and Mom was thinking what to make. She thought about something that Beth (Oh Dear) cooks for brunches and that made her think about how you used to call her “Bethie.” That’s all it took.

A few days ago, opening up the computer made me sad. I looked at the photo on my desktop of Mom, Jack, Joe and me at the National’s game when the computer screen warmed up. We all look so happy and we are. But you are so missing.

Then the other night at dinner. It wasn’t that we were all so happy. It was just that you and your personality were missing. We were all sitting around the table and talking and I felt that you were not there. You were the perfect fit between Jack and Joe. You would’ve kept the peace. It’s like a three-legged dog. He gets around okay but you're very aware that something is missing.

And then there was last weekend. I did that 100 mile bike ride I have done the past couple of years. Steven broke his wrist so he couldn’t make it, but Jake’s dad, Richard came. We drove in the Defender to St. Michaels and met Mom, the guys and Nana and Papa. The weather was fantabulous. Here is a picture Mom took.



Driving around in the Defender without the top on has been a blast. It is not a very sensible car, but it is a very fun car. Thanks to the drought -- which means it isn't raining -- and how warm it has stayed, we have been able to drive around “topless” for a long time now. Mom and Jack and Joe love it, and that makes me very happy. Jack wants us to get a license plate that says, "Ha Beast," which would be Hebrew for "The Beast." I may do that.



There are no airbags so Jack and Joe are okay to sit in the front seat. I have taught them the whole concept of "Shotgun." If you want to sit in the passenger seat in front you need to call "Shotgun" when you are in sight of the truck. There is a lot of competition for that front seat, but the back is pretty cool. There is a middle seat, but there are also benches on the side and you get to sit facing in.

I bring this up a lot, but I am glad that Mark sat you in the front seat of the car when he took you out for pancakes.

I think I know why Mom is really into the truck. Here is a picture of the jeep that Mom always told us about. The one that they had at their farm in Virginia when she was growing up. It feels like we are repeating history.



And you have to remember this picture. It is in the living room. It is one of my favorites of Mom from growing up. Not sure I ever noticed the jeep behind her.



The next morning Richard and went to Salisbury for the bike ride, and Mom and the guys had a lazy day with Nana and Papa. The weather was beautiful. It has rained terribly the last two years, so this was especially nice.

Richard and I rode faster than I have before. He was great at pushing me. Sometimes you need to get pushed.



After the ride we drove back to Washington because it was Joe’s birthday. It was quite the perfect, busy - usual - weekend.

The more perfect it is the more I think of you. They are twins.

I have more that I have written and I will put that in another post.

We bought Springsteen tickets this morning. I am excited for Jack because this will be his first honest-to-goodness rock and roll concert. And what a way to get started.

The tickets sold out in 4 minutes.

You went to see Lucinda Williams at Wold Trap when you were just a little bitty baby. Mom and I couldn't believe that we had to buy a separate ticket for you. You were so young you I was carrying you in your car seat.

That was crazy.

Remember I told you about my friend Matt whose little boy Julian died after he had a transplant. He and his wife Naomi just had a baby named Lucia.

We went to Lucia's baby naming. It was a very happy and very sad gathering. I don't know exactly what they are going through. I guess they are feeling a whole lot of different things all at the same time. We had a son die and a baby born but not in the same order. Joe was born 14 months before you died, and Lucia was born a year after Julian died. I think it must be harder the way it happened for them.

It was a really nice ceremony. Matt is a lot like me I think. It is hard to say everything you want to say out loud in front of people when you have a lot of sad feelings. What he said was beautiful. Naomi, Lucia's mommy, read a poem and it made me and everyone else cry.

Tonight we are going to see Bruce Springsteen. I think that will make me sad.
________________________________________

From: Paul, Matthew [mailto:mpaul@PattonBoggs.com]
Sent: Tuesday, May 10, 2005 10:37 AM

The baby’s name is Lucia Elizabeth Paul Mezey.

Lucia was Jake’s inspiration and seems appropriate for a Cinco de Mayo baby.
Elizabeth is after Naomi’s favorite poet, Elizabeth Bishop. Naomi recommends “The Moose” and “One Art”.

I call her “Lou” after my favorite baseball player, Lou Gehrig. I recommend Gehrig’s farewell address.

Lucia’s Hebrew name is Leah after my Great Aunt Lillian Pose. My aunt was a wonderful and memorable woman but does not have any web links.

Matt

Bless Jack's Rock 'n Roll soul, when we were waiting for the Oxford Ferry he asked Mom and me to remind him who is the "King." Elvis Presley. We then went through and explained that Bruce Springsteen is the "Boss;" Aretha Franklin is "Queen of Soul;" James Brown is the "Godfather of Soul" and Michael Jackson is the "King of Pop." Jack had us drill him on this a couple of times. I should ask him tonight who is the Boss. See if it sank in.

When we watched Fantasia 2000 this weekend there was a part where Quincy Jones comes on to introduce George Gershwin's (he is a composer, like Mozart and Beethoven) Rhapsody in Blue. I told Jack that I had met Quincy Jones last month at work. He is one great musician, composer, producer and all-around cool dude.



Mom says that Jack wants to take piano lessons. I think it would be great if he learned to play guitar. I remember we were trying to get you guitar lessons but the teacher was all booked up with students. We were supposed to call back later to try and schedule you.

There is a hurricane coming. It's named Isabel. There was a tropical storm a week or so ago named Henri. I was thinking back to the time when I drove through that hurricane to bring the cells to Detroit.

On Saturday night we went to see Bruce Springsteen again. For the second Saturday night in three weeks the clouds parted and gave us good weather for the concert.

Look who we ran into in the parking lot.



Cousin Catherine!

She and Tim came to the show. We also saw Uncle Andrew and Aunt Tracey. They were sitting in the section one over from us. Helaine and Richard were there. My friend Justine was there, too. Seeing Bruce in New Jersey was fun, but it was very nice to be home and literally surrounded by friends and family. For the first time I felt like a lot of the songs were about death. I never noticed that before. The band played "Bobby Jean" and I cried. I posted the lyrics to that song a couple of months ago right after you died. I told you how it made me think of you because I thought of you as my best friend. In the song, Bruce says that he didn't get to say, "goodbye." I feel I didn't either. It was so hectic the morning that you were intubated. I was keeping back a little so the doctors and nurses could work, and Mommy was right by your side. I don't know what I said to you. I don't know if you spoke to me. I don't know the last thing we ever said to each other. I definitely didn't think there would not be another chance to talk, to tell you I love you, to say goodbye. I said those things to you while you were unconscious that next week but I know you couldn't hear me.

One thing I've learned from death is that I need to tell people how I feel when I feel it. A friend told me the other day that he might move away from Washington. I told him that I would be sad if he left. The only problem was that it took me two or three days to tell him. At Uncle Bill and Cristina's wedding I said in my toast that one of the most important things you need to do when you are married is to tell the other person every day that you love them. I said even though you might show them you love them and feel like you them you still need to tell them you love them. I didn't say this because I thought you might not get another chance to tell them you love them.

One neat thing about Bruce Springsteen is that he writes and sings a lot of songs with the following:

La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
and
Da da da da da da da da da da da da da da da

That is good song writing, seriously. People don't do that enough anymore.

Here is a picture of Joe sitting in a bean bag chair in Mrs. Singer's new classroom. He came with us to visit the new school building.



Doesn't he look relaxed. He is a crazy man lately. He bangs his head on the floor and then says, "hurt." No kidding. Jack used to do that, and Mommy did that when she was a little bitty girl. Joe will grow out of it.

Good morning.

We went to see Bruce Springsteen this weekend in New Jersey with Pamela and Jeffrey. It was the first time I've driven up there without you and without going to Hackensack. At the concert there were a lot of mommies and daddies with their kids. I kept looking at this little girl, who was just a little older than you. She was sitting (standing, really) with her mom. All I could think of was you. To make me really miss you the band played one of your favorite songs. How'd they know to do that?



SEVEN NIGHTS TO ROCK
(Moon Mullican)

I got seven nights to rock
I got seven nights to roll
Seven nights, I'm gonna have a whirl
Seven nights with a different girl
Seven nights to rock
I got seven nights to roll

Monday, at sister Suzy's ball
Tuesday, at the old dance hall
Wednesday, at the road house inn
Thursday, at the lion's den
Friday, at the chatter box
Saturday and Sunday, everybody rocks

Seven nights to rock
I got seven nights to roll
Seven nights, I'm gonna have a whirl
Seven nights with a different girl
Seven nights to rock
I got seven nights to roll

I got seven nights to rock
I got seven nights to roll
I got seven nights, I'm gonna show my face
With a different chick and in a different place
Seven nights to rock
Seven nights to roll

Monday, I'm gonna rock with Jane
Tuesday, it's gonna be Lorraine
Wednesday, I'm taking Nancy Lee
Thursday, it's Betty Lou and me
Friday, I'm gonna jive with Sue
Saturday and Sunday, any chick will do

Seven nights to rock
I got seven nights to roll
Seven nights, I'm gonna show my face
With a different chick and in a different place
Seven nights to rock
I got seven nights to roll

It really rocked. Do you remember how you and I would play it over and over again in the car to learn the names of all the girls. I don't think we singing it exactly right, but who cares. We listened to the BR-549 version and I never got a chance to play you the one done by Nick Lowe. I know you loved this song because it sounded a lot like Out of Habit by BR-549.

You would have loved the whole concert. I can see you dancing. In her eulogy, Mom compared life with you to an encore at a Bruce Springsteen concert.

After the concert we stayed in a hotel right near the town where I used to live when I was a little boy, Old Bridge, New Jersey. The next morning we went out for Dunkin Donuts. A woman asked for a small box of Munchkins. I thought that was funny. Of course I could only think of the Dunkin Donuts across the street from The Joker's Child in Fairlawn where we would go when you were in the hospital in Hackensack. I wonder how Dr. Gillio is doing. It has been a long time.

I miss you my munchkin man.

Dear Henry:

I heard a Bruce Springsteen song tonight that I am not too familiar with from his newest album. It is called, You're Missing. Here are some of the words -

But you're missing, when I shut out the lights
You're missing, when I close my eyes
You're missing, when I see the sun rise
You're missing

Children are asking if it's alright
Will you be in our arms tonight?

Morning is morning, the evening falls I got
Too much room in my bed, too many phone calls
How's everything, everything?
Everything, everything
You're missing, you're missing

I miss you,

Dad

Dear Henry:

I keep writing all of these notes to myself to remember to tell you stuff. I gathered a bunch up and will tell you what I was thinking. I am not sure if I've already gone over some of this, but here goes.

I called our phone the other day and no-one was home. I got our message. I think you recorded some of our better messages in the past. Well this one said,

Henry, Jack, Joe, Laurie and Allen aren't here right now, so please leave a message.

I was like, huh? Did I hear that right. So I called back. I have to be honest with you, I was a mix of confused and hopeful. Sure enough, when I listened very closely the second time the message said

Henry, Jack, Joe, Laurie and Allen aren't here right now, so please leave a message.

Way to go Mom. I guess you have a permanent outgoing message that you aren't home. These are the messages I am leaving you. I hope you can retrieve them. Instead of "Dear Henry" maybe I should just write, "Beep."



Wanna know something funny. We changed our phone company and I don't know how to get our messages. Mom does, but I don't know the phone number to call. I should get it from Mom. I am not very good about picking up the phone when it is ringing. I rarely pick it up. I think there are a lot of reasons. I think the first one is I don't neccessarily want to tell anyone how I am doing. A lot of people say, "How are you," as a way of being polite. I don't think they want me to be honest and tell them how I really am. But that might not be the case. Some people might really want to know. Maybe I just can't handle telling 'em the truth. There is this really good movie where they say, "You can't handle the truth." I don't know who can't handle the truth, me or the person calling.

The second reason I am not so hot for talking on the phone is that I have had some pretty bad phone calls that keep ringing in my ears. Two that are always in my head are (1) the time Mom called me in August when I was picking up Pop Pop Teddy at the airport to tell me she thought you were dead and (2) the call in December in Minnesota when Nana called me and said Mom called and I needed to get over to the hospital right away 'cause you were in trouble. Those calls sucked. Grandma didn't like it when I used that word, oops. I don't like the phone. Oh yeah, I thought of one last reason. I had to call places, like airlines and hotels and explain that we needed something, like a special rate or flight, and I had to say the words, "because my son is very sick," or "my son is dying." That was never easy.

I feel more comfortable writing than talking. I think much of it has to do with the fact that it's easier to write about tough things. You can't get too choked up on the computer. I used to think I was your personal Make a Wish Foundation, and would blast out letters and emails to people asking them to do nice things for you. I used to drop what I call the "H Bomb." The "H Bomb" was telling them what you've been through and that there was a possibility you'd die. How could anyone say no to the "H Bomb," to you. I couldn't do that on the phone or in person and not cry. Writing is safe. That is why I do this. I read a quote from a book that says, "I write as a constant exercise in longing."

You loved the phone. You worked it like a pro -- the mad dialer calling us whenever we went out. I gotta be more like you.

You'll be happy to know that Jack is very good about making sure you are still included in things. Mom said that she and Jack met some people today. Jack made sure Mom told them that he has another brother, Henry. He's a good brother, isn't he.

Mom and Jack and Joe are in St. Michaels. It is a long weekend. I am stuck at home cleaning out the back half of the basement. We are going to "finish" it and make it into another bedroom. I bet you would have wanted that room for yourself. I know you. It'll be cool when it is done. I wish I was with everyone else, though. I'm sad and lonely. I am listening to XM radio. We are having a special, 66 straight hours of Bruce Springsteen. One of the things that I want to start writing about are the things that I would have liked for you to have tried and liked as you got older. Stuff I enjoy that I hope you'd enjoy too. There is a Bruce Springsteen song, called Bobby Jean, where he sings about his friend,

We liked the same music,
We liked the same bands,
We liked the same clothes

* * *
Now we went walking in the rain talking about
the pain that from the world we hid
Now there ain't nobody, nowhere nohow gonna
ever understand me the way you did

I think you and I were a lot alike. I have a feeling you would have liked Bruce Springsteen. Wow, this is a cool coincidence. The Devil with A Blue Dress Medley is playing right now as I write this. For me, the 4 minutes and 35 seconds of that song is simply the greatest music ever recorded. Sheer ecstasy (that means great joy). You go on a roller coaster ride and get whipped around and go up and up and rocket down and go up again. Aunt Jen bought the album (No Nukes) when we were in high school. She liked it for Jackson Browne, but I loved Bruce Springsteen. I played it over and over. Now I always play it when I am feeling good or when I am sagging and need a boost. I wish I could have watched you dance to it like you did with Out of Habit and your other favorites. We are going up to New Jersey to see Bruce Springsteen play later this summer. In her eulogy, Mommy said you were the encore at a Springsteen show. We are going to be the happiest sad people ever.

Speaking of sad, a few weeks ago I was reading one of Lisa's columns in the newspaper about Take Your Kids to Work Day. I mentioned it to Mom and she told me that she was extremely sad when the reminder for that special day went out at her office. She told me that you couldn't wait to be 7 years old so you could go to Mommy's work with her. I didn't know that. There are days of the year now, like Mother's Day and your birthday and the day you died, when I know I need to give Mommy extra hugs. I need to add Take Your Kids to Work Day. I know you would have wanted to go to Mom's office, but my office is really neat, too. It looks like Star Wars and Star Trek. There are a lot of lights and things, and you can be on the radio. I am going to bring Jack in so he can be on the XM Kids channel. I think they know him because he calls in all the time.

Here is something I have been meaning to tell you. The other day Michael came over to play with Jack. Michael loves Jack like he loves you. Michael says it helps him to play with Jack when he is thinking about you. I think this is kinda funny; Michael says "sweet" about everything. Everything. No matter what I say, he says, "Oh, that's sweet." I have a feeling that you'd be saying "sweet," too. Michael is totally cool.

Joe update. He no longer wants anything to do with the Wiggles. He is all grown up. Now all he wants to do is watch animal videos. He watches all of the National Geographic "Spin" movies that you and Jack loved. He is just like Jack in how much he loves animals. He is at the point where we are working on all of the animal sounds, remember "Baa, like a sheep, Moo, like a cow, Oink, like a pig, Oooo, Oooo, like a monkey. What is the difference between apes and monkeys. Right, monkeys have tails and apes don't.

Hey, I love you, you crazy monkey.

Ooooo, ooooo

Dad