Dear Andy

Dear Andy,

It's 9:00 am and I've just gotten to the office. It's a beautiful clear and sunny morning here in New York. Eerily similar to that same day seven years ago when tragedy struck.

I still remember every moment of that day vividly. James calling me in the office to tell me the news. The mass hysteria surrounding the immediate confusion. Looking out my window and seeing the giant plumes of black smoke envelop the sky. Finally realizing the epic nightmare of what was happening to our beloved city.

I remember hitting the redial button on my phone every two seconds, frantically trying to reach you at your office or on your cell phone. I remember driving around to hospitals all night in New Jersey with our friends, praying that we'd find you in one of them. I remember staying up all night together as we all anxiously waited for the good news that would never come.

All of it seems like just yesterday.

It doesn't surprise me that I can remember so much of that time. You were one of my closest friends and, as a group, it seemed like we spent every single one of our free moments together: evenings, weekends, vacations. When were we ever apart? Even when we all had girlfriends, we were an inseparable group of friends.

So it scared me this week when I was thinking about you and I realized that I was having a hard time remembering every detail about you. What was your cellphone number?  Were you a lefty? What was that screenplay you wrote about? Which of the many times down in Miami was it when we laughed our asses off because you got sunburn on your head? How many joint birthday parties did we throw together? How could I not remember these things?

Then I remind myself that those are things that don't matter. Not in the slightest. The only things that matter are that you were one of my closest friends, that I loved you and that your life was tragically cut short.

I still can't believe it's been seven years.

I think it's partly because, out of the past seven years, this one feels like the longest. We lost Sofia's dad this year after a long battle with cancer. We spent the entire summer going back and forth to make more memories with him. The proximity to his death always made me think of you.

I would have loved to have made more memories with you. All I have are the ones from our time together. Wednesday night dinners with you and Kyle every week. All those weekend trips where we crashed on Roy's floor in Miami. The countless rounds of hungover golf. Chinese food every Sunday while watching the Giants game. The birthday parties. The New Year's Eve parties. The times at the beach houses we all rented together every summer. It seemed as if we never had a middle gear.

I guess that's what life in your 20's is all about.

Meanwhile, it's mind-boggling to me that I'm about to celebrate my 40th birthday in a few months. I've got a wife, a child, a serious job, and an even more serious mortgage. I don't play pick-up basketball anymore because it takes too much out of my body. If I sleep in a funny position, my back will be sore for days. And when I look in the mirror, I see wrinkles and creases that make me feel every single one of those 40 years.

But you'll always remain that beautiful, happy-go-lucky guy in his late 20's who always had a smile on his face and a kind word for everyone. There's something oddly comforting in the fact that that's how I'll always remember you.

I hope you're looking down on all of us and still smiling, Andy. I know I still laugh when I see us. Our group of friends (whom you always lovingly referred to as "la famiglia") has certainly gotten older. Russell is exactly the same lovable clown that he always was. Shary has turned into a Persian baby-making machine. Roy has an enormous clan down in Miami still. David finally got married. Of course, Kyle is still single. He spent the past year in L.A. and we all know what a year in L.A. does to that guy. All in all, we don't see each other as much as we used to but, whenever we do, you're always there with us.

I miss you terribly, Andy. These days, thinking of you always puts a smile on my face. You were such an important part of our past that you'll always be a part of our future. I think, after seven long years, I've finally come to terms with losing you. More than anything, I'm not as angry as I used to be. Maybe I'm mellowing with age.

But every year on 9/11, I swear that I'm not going to cry, mourn or bury myself in a bottle of scotch.  Unfortunately, ever year, I end up failing miserably.  This year, I think I'm finally ready to mourn you by celebrating the amazing love you had for life.  I know that's what you would have wanted.

But more than anything, I just want you to know that I'm thinking about you. I always have and I always will.

Rest in peace, Andy.

Love always,
Your friend Pierre

Comments

[bigmama]

Thank you for reminding me how special my friends are to me...I too have my own "Andys'" and I need to tell them more often - Thank you for being who they are and that I love them very much.

I'm sure Andy looks down and smiles at you all the time...he is blessed to have you...

[Karen]

Thank you for sharing your beautiful letter with us. I lost my best friend 12 years ago, and it's still difficult. I do what you are trying to do, though... Focus on what made him the amazing person he was. I hope you feel some peace today. I am sure he is with you.

[liz]

what a beautiful tribute. thank you for sharing.

[Corky]

Beautiful, MD. What a tribute, I can truly feel the love you have for your dear friend.

[maggie, dammit]

This is amazing. What a good, good friend you are, even still.

I'm so profoundly sorry for your loss.

[Shelly]

Beautiful. Thanks for sharing.

[Christina]

How beautiful. I am glad my friend pointed me in this direction. A perfect way to feel and mark the day. Your Andy sounds like he was a fantastic friend. I am sorry for your loss.

[Heidi]

Oh my goodness. That letter broke my heart. Although I will never know the pain of losing someone in that horrible way and on that horrible day.... I do know what it's like to lose a good friend. My heart is with you.

[Matthew]

I always think of you and Andy on this day now. I'm glad that time is healing the anger for you. It sounds like you and Andy and an amazing friendship. How lucky you were to have found each other.

[Busy Mom]

Thinking of you and Andy.

[Black Hockey Jesus]

Pouring a 40, Metro D.

[lydia]

It's strange how after 7 years, memories stand still. Sorry for ur loss, Metrodad. I hope u would pen down details/ memories of Andy. I think it would help to remember. :)

[Jamie]

That is beautiful. Thank you for sharing your amazing friend with us.

[kris]

An absolutely gorgeous tribute.

[Secret Agent Mama]

I'm so sorry for your loss of such a great friend.

Prayers always~~

[chris]

Sorry for your loss, Pierre.

What a beautiful tribute to your friend.

[Jen]

Tears. Thanks.

[Gray Matter]

Articulate, honest and loving posts like this is exactly why I have been a little gushy last night at Liz's. It was great meeting you--it's amazing to me that do anything BUT write. Such a talent.

[Sherri]

Found your site through joyunexpected.com. Your letter to Andy deeply touched me. Beautifully written.

[anna]

This is a fantastic post. Out here (LA) it was very hard to imagine what 9/11 was like, even though we all saw it happen, over and over again, on TV. This post really made it real for me. Thank you for sharing, and I'm sorry for your loss.

[Urban Mom]

Thanks for sharing your letter. It was very moving and touching.

[AA]

From what I know of my own grief, it seems that 7 years is a turning point. At about 7 years it takes a different form somehow. Still hurts, but you learn to live with it better. As I said on my own blog yesterday... I think it is okay to forget some things... otherwise we just couldn't go on at all.

Great post.

[Judy in SATX]

In the last couple years, reading your letter to Andy has become a 9/11 tradition to me. We are fortunate not to have lost anyone close to us that day, but I thank you for sharing your loss, so that we can all feel it with you, and never forget.

[creative-type dad]

What a great memory you have of your friend.

[Shawn]

Powerful. Wow.

[Rhea]

Andy lives on in your wonderful memories. what a wonderful tribute.

[Jenna]

This is an amazing post. Thank you so much for sharing it with all of us!

It's never easy to lose someone -- regardless of the circumstances. I lost my father in 2006 (he was only 46) and I miss him just as much now as I ever have.

I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers!

[Jaime]

you are just amazing.

[ChristieNY]

Beautiful letter, MD. Many hugs to you and yours.

[Kila]

Thanks for sharing Andy with us.

[Jamie]

Thank you for sharing -

What a wonderful way to remember your friend - My heart aches for everyone who lost someone that day.

[Krista]

Thanks, MD for another good 9/11 letter. I had forgotten about this ritual of yours and I'm glad I was reminded.

Oh....I just stumbled onto your site somehow and read this awesome tribute you wrote to your friend. Ah, I'm so sorry. Your pain and your loss is papable...and is your joy of your friendship. I know how it is....I really do. Three months ago I lost my best friend, Bob of 25 years. He was the tragic victim of suicide. It is so hard...so sad....when you lose someone that close to you. I'm just glad that you do have all those memories and that you did have the clearly amazing fortune to have been blessed with such a friendship.

-cindy from North Carolina
www.doublelucky.blogspot.com

[Abdun]

I only heard about 9/11 on the following morning here in Malaysia, since due to different time zone, when the tragedy happened, it was night time here and I did not watch the news.

Indeed, it was a tragedy to all humanity.

I still hope that none of my overseas friends was there, at the wrong time and the wrong place. There's no way to find out for sure since we already lost contact soon after graduation.

My heart goes out to the victims and their families.

[defendUSA]

That was a great tribute to your friend. Isn't it funny when someone you love dies they are stuck at "that age?" My friend Mike is like that for me. When I am reminded of him I think of the time he and I had a shaving cream fight in the barracks. We were laughing and chasing each other and our friends were laughing, too. He sent me flowers to thank me for taking care of his crap while he was away...and then he died. Two days later, the mail caught up with me. A letter from him. Bittersweet ending. I miss him like you miss Andy and it's been 23 years. He's only 27 and I am 44. :)

[Rachel]

beautiful.

[racheal]

that was such a beautiful post to read...thank you for sharing.

[Penpals]

Was just surfing the web and I came across you site and I have to say that I am greatly impressed. Thank-you!

[KAT]

Thank you for this. I knew people who lost people, but not intimately. 9/11 had become an abstraction... I'd forgotten that huge, overwhelming loss, the sadness of the city for so long afterwards. Sorry about Andy. Its a beautiful letter.

[Stephanie]

Dear MD,

Please post again. Miss hearing from you.......

[Joy Kwon]

I"ve also lost a friend at 9/11 named andy. He worked on the 95th floor of the WTC. crazy I just stumbled onto your post and I happened to be thinking about him recently. Every year I can't believe so much time has past. I remember it like yesterday. remember he would come to NJ every weekend to hang out with us. He was always smiling, loved music, loved people, loved food. he had such a passion for life. Thank you for your words it made me remember him so clearly.

[nazli]

thnks

[goedkoop auto verzekeren]

It is great to see such blog.Thanks guys keep going like this.

[Stephen Schaunt]

I've also had the same experience as yours when my best buddy, Greg recently had a tragic accident. I honestly don't know what to feel that time when I found out his accident. And with that, I immediately called up some Bay Area injury attorneys and have legal advices regarding this matter. Great thing that here in Bay Area, personal injury attorneys are trusted in legal counseling, that's why we may be able to handle Greg's case well. And the best thing here is that, my friend's still alive and gladly survived the tragedy.

[Alecia Longsworth]

The 9/11 tragedy will never be forgotten, and it will remain deeply engraved in the memory of those who witnessed it. People around the world mourned with us. Until now, there is still an ache left by the loss of loved ones in that tragedy. It's a nicely written memoir for Andy.

[Yusdianto]

My heart goes out for the family, two great loesss in one summer. I cannot fathom, but I know the Lord embraces them and is seeing them through. Praise God there is hope, when it feels as though all hope is gone. James and Dora are united together in the arms of Jesus, and if that is the only blessing in all of this, then what a wonderful blessing it is.

[Rachid]

Bob Davis November 7, 2011 This would be in the mid-1950 s, (the Metro Coach period was from 1953 to 1958). My guess is that it's on the West Basin line to San Pedro. The car is in pesrcos of restoration at Orange Empire.

[Molly]

Anda! AWESOME! Andy you guys look great!!!! And Jess, I LOVE your red dress!!! So fun to see friends of mine IN some phtoos. Really great, Andy! (And Anda, too!!!)

[Abyy]

Jen?! Like, THE Jen??? jen, I saw your cakewrecks truhogh craftlit podcast shownotes. Chris and I looked it over and laughed and laughed a few days ago. thanks for being there for Abby. I was soooo upset when I heard about James. How are they doing? I am grieving,Laura Ricketts

[Santos]

As much as I would like to say otherwise, I am more of the type to have a few too many Buds or Captain & cokes. I get loud, grow 'beer mceulss', and pressure my friends to join me. After drinking almost continuously from my 21st birthday in November until New Year's Eve, I finally slowed down. Mark, your story is amazing and I am very impressed that you made valedictorian while drunk. This chapter really made me feel for this mystery character. There were many Mass references so I am thinking that he is someone from Hal's hometown (family perhaps?).