Dear Andy

I miss you, Andy. I miss you a lot. We all do. It's been four years since 9/11 and I still think about you all the time. So many things remind me of you and so many things just aren't the same without you around. The other day, I was walking down 7th Avenue and I saw a guy who looked just like you. My heart stopped beating for what felt like an hour and I thought I was losing my mind.

I miss so many things about you, Andy. I miss having my phone ring precisely as I was walking into the office and hearing your voice on the other end, wishing me a good morning and asking me what we were doing that night. I miss the fact that after we went out together, you'd always call in the morning to recap the evening...and then ask what we were all doing tonight. I miss your unbridled enthusiasm and amazing smile that would never allow any of us to remain depressed or in a funk for very long. I miss how when any of us got into a stupid argument, you were always there to make the peace and remind us all that it was ok for family to fight but it was time to make up now.

As for our crew of friends (whom you always lovingly referred to as "la famiglia"), we're all doing ok. None of us see each other as much. Maybe it's because we're all getting older and are busy with our own lives. But I think it's because you were really the glue that held us all together.

I miss those dinners where you'd force me to come to the Upper East Side to meet up with you, Kyle and Shary. You'd always have a drink waiting for me at the door and, to tell you the truth, I never laughed as much as I did during those dinners. In fact, so many memories of good times and laughter include you. From the time we dressed up in silly costumes and went down to Atlantic City to the night we decided to walk around the city only following the "walk" signs, we had fun, didn't we? And make no mistake, I'll always remember summers out at the beach where we'd stay up late talking and philosophizing about life. In fact, I haven't been out to the beach since. It just wouldn't be the same without you.

I loved the fact that you always challenged yourself and sought out new life experiences. Whether it was by immersing yourself in the work of new artists, travelling to new places or working on your screenplay, you always remained in touch with the world around you. And you always made sure to include all of us. For you, a rewarding life experience didn't really happen unless your friends were around to share it with you. That's a rare character trait, my friend, and it only scratches the surface of what a truly special friend you were.

BossLady and I are doing well. Although it's been over 4 years since we got married, we just got the video and photo album a few months ago. It's taken us that long because every time we sat down to edit it, we'd see your smiling face and it would break our hearts. I can't tell you how many times we tried to work on them but ended up sobbing for hours. Although it was the happiest day of our lives, BossLady and I agree that nobody looked happier for us than you.

Speaking of family...guess what? We have a little daughter who's almost a year old. You'd love her, Andy. In a way, she reminds me a lot of you. She's always got a smile on her face. She loves people. And she's the easiest going kid I've ever seen. The two of you would have had fun together. I could just see Uncle Andy taking the Peanut out for Saturday morning pedicures and window shopping on Madison Avenue. Or maybe you'd be the one dressing her up in a mini football jersey and taking her to Jets games on Sundays. And since I'm artistically illiterate, I'm sure she would have enjoyed playing hooky from school so she could go to the MOMA with you. Like her father, the Peanut would have loved all the different sides of you.

The first year you were gone was tough, Andy. I've never been so depressed in my entire life. I felt like I was literally drowning in sorrow and swimming in waves of grief. I used to call your office every day just to hear your voice. I even left messages so you knew what was going on in all our lives. It was rough on all of us. You have no idea how many lives you touched during the course of your short lifetime. We all grieved together. But ultimately, I think that remembering your spirit was what allowed us to heal. Together, we decided that we'd stop mourning and start celebrating your life. That's why we started the charity in your name. You would have loved it. We're sponsoring some great kids and giving them opportunities in life that they never would have had. They're good kids but, like our beloved Mets, they're underdogs who need a helping hand to get to where they want to be. You'd love them., Andy. You always loved kids and these are some good ones. And we love celebrating you by being involved with them. Once again, your life brings us all together.

I miss you terribly, Andy. The past few anniversaries of your death have been tough. But this year, I'm determined to not cry, mourn or bury myself in a bottle of scotch. Maybe parenthood has made me a little more optimistic about life but I want to remember that terrible day by thinking not only about our friendship but also what a truly amazing person you were. And more than anything, I just want you to know that I'm thinking about you. I always have and I always will.

Love,
Pierre

p.s. Our Mets still suck.

p.p.s. Screw that whole last paragraph, Andy. Seems like my optimism was just a fleeting moment. I cried last night thinking about you and drowned myself in some scotch in your honor. We just got back from Ground Zero this morning. BossLady and I didn't hold it together for very long. We heard the names being read and we just lost it. I miss you, my friend. Wherever you are, save me a seat at the bar.

Comments

[Jason]

Pierre - my thoughts are with you this morning.

[Alison]

What a beautiful tribute to your friend. I'm so sorry for your loss. Our thoughts today are with all those New Yorkers who lost family and friends. God bless you all.

[Matthew]

I am truly sorry for your loss. I shed a few tears for Andy and the others today as well.

Please send me the name of Andy's charity. I'd like to contribute.

[hayfever]

That... is such a eloquent tribute. So often it is hard to put into words what you want to say, to help people understand your feelings. I feel you've given us a window into your heart.

[Dawnan]

Wow. I hope that writing this was somewhat cathartic for you, if even for a minute. That was beautifully written.

[Mr. Big Dubya]

Nothing I can say other than...

Sorry. Our condolences to you, BossLady and all your friends whose lives were so profoundly touched by Andy.

That's all I got. I'm sorry.

[MIM]

BIG hug.

[landismom]

Great post. I wish that all of us could have such a friend.

[Jenl]

Moved to tears, too.

Lifting my glass in Andy's honor.

hugs
Jenl

[Brent]

We should all be so lucky to have a friend like Andy in our life. But we would also be lucky to have a friend like you. Beautiful post, MD. Made this old man's eye well up with tears.

[Leora]

Not living in New York, I think a lot of us forget the lasting pain and sorrow that 9/11 caused so many people who lost friends and family. I'm so sorry for your loss. This was a very beautiful tribute to your friend Andy. Thank you for sharing it with us.

[Linda B]

Wow. That is a beautiful letter.

I am so sorry you lost your friend. He sounded like a wonderful guy.

Hope you and your family are doing ok.

[ShotgunDaddy]

Pierre:
Thanks for having the courage to share this with all of us. I hope you can at least take solace from the fact that you've clearly held on to your friendship in many ways. It sounds as if you were truly blessed to have had Andy in your life, even though your time together was years shorter than it should've been.

Thanks again.

[Michele]

Wonderful letter. The best anyone can do is love those around them, and when they go, their love is still felt. He did it well I see.

I would have loved to have known him. He sounds like an awesome person.

[Lisa W.]

I've always been slightly envious of people who had such close friends. As you get older, I think you'll find that special friendships like these are a very rare thing. You're lucky to have had such a friend. I'm sorry for your loss.

[Richard]

Great post, Metro. Thanks for sharing this with us. My heart goes out to all New Yorkers who lost friends and family on 9/11. Always remember.

[Tony]

Wow. As politicized as 9/11 has become, your note and today's readings really bring home the human side of the tragedy. Very moving and heartfelt, and my condolences for your loss. It never gets any easier...

[Lena]

You are really a fantastically gifted writer. After reading this, I was so moved and I felt like I really knew your friend Andy. I lost a good friend of mine last year to cancer. It's been tough but I try to remember and celebrate her life as well. Sorry for your loss.

[Susan]

Hearing parents and family read off the names of their loved ones yesterday killed me.

[bitemycookie]

tears, hugs, and a toast to your beautiful toast to your friend, metro.

[dollymama]

You and Andy were lucky to have each other. Thanks for sharing about your beautiful friendship.

Hugs from Kentucky.

[Yolanda]

A fabulous tribute. Thank you for sharing yourself. Andy was lucky to have a friend who loved him so much.

[Renee]

That was truly a beautiful and touching post, MD. I'm so sorry that you lost such a close friend. Thanks for sharing it with us. My heart goes out to all you New Yorkers who lost friends and family on 9/11.

[Dreadmouse]

I'm sorry. I wish Peanut could have met him.

[Luper]

Cheers, MD. Great friends create great friendships. Thanks for this reminder to value them every day.

[Amanda]

Aside from my husband, I've never had THAT great of a friend - no one like Andy, that's for sure. I can't begin to imagine your loss.

[panthergirl]

I'm sorry to weigh in so late on this, but I am so moved by your loss. Maybe it's because I lost a best friend named Andrew (to AIDS in 1983) and I still miss him terribly.

Kisses to you.

[Guero]

Thanks for sharing. I'm such a whimp and can't hold tears back when I read this. You should put a NSFW warning on this kind of writing. Here I am crying at work which is a testosterone filled trading room where you don't cry regardless of what happens.

[CityMama]

What a beautiful frienship. I am so deeply sorry for your loss.

[Kris]

Wow, what a special person he was, and what a tremendous loss for those who loved him. I'm sorry, thank you for sharing this with us.