My Buddy

Few can say they’ve been so lucky as to have a buddy like mine

My buddy would pick me up from school and take me to Apple Charlie's, documenting the whole adventure with his trusty cam-corder while I ate donuts and petted the goats.

When it was time to take off my training wheels, my buddy held onto the back of my seat, and ran with me as I pedaled away.

My buddy taught me how to fish and baited my hook so I didn’t have to touch the worm.

My buddy and I colored Easter eggs together every year and when we were done, he let me fill the sink with all the dye and turn my hands and the dish cloths a putrid shade of green.

My buddy taught me how to play poker with chips he kept in a purple Crown Royal bag.

My buddy made me the star of my own magic show, in which he used camera trickery to make it look as if I was vanishing household objects using my “magic pen”.

My buddy made me laugh till tears ran down my face, when he’d mute the commercials on TV, then make up his own running dialogue of what the actors were saying.

My buddy built me a beautiful wooden dollhouse, and painted it to look exactly like the picture on the box. From the leftover scraps, he created knick knacks, picture frames, and a model general store that he hung on the wall in the kitchen. He was always making something amazing out of nothing at all.

My buddy consistently cut my bangs too short, while I sat on the kitchen table. Then would laugh from his belly when I cried that they were crooked.

When my buddy saw how terrified I was when the doctor tried to remove the stitches in my foot, he waited till I fell asleep on the couch, then gently removed them himself, one by one, so that when I woke up, my stitches were gone, and I had nothing left to fear.

My buddy was an excellent cook, and made the best chili and Swedish meatballs I've ever tasted.

My buddy was the cleverest man I knew. He built a tool box out of a 6-pack of coke, and the handle of a snow shovel. When I was little, he bought me my own tool box so I could hammer nails into blocks and be busy like him. He taught me that everything could be fixed with either electrical tape or hot glue, and when I moved to NY he made me my own tool kit with everything I would need.

My buddy thought I was the best singer and dancer in the whole wide world, and captured all of my performances on film, keeping a meticulous catalog of VHS tapes with titles that all started with “Talia”.

My buddy was creative and artistic, smart, and mechanical, funny and loving, and he was the best buddy anyone could ever have. And now, he’s my guardian angel. I love you Grandpa. Please give Woody kisses for me.