Goodbyes Are Hard

Saying goodbye to anyone is not easy.  Saying goodbye to one of your best friends, one of the best men you have ever met, and someone you’ve spent uncountable hours with is downright heartbreaking.

While at the BWI Pen show earlier this year, I learned that Pete “Spud” Chartrand passed away from injuries sustained in a motorcycle accident.  The gaping hole in my heart has been painful ever since.

A few weekends ago, we gathered in his hometown of Adams, New York, to hold a Celebration of Life.  Due to some scheduling conflicts, I needed to make it a one-day trip, which made for a long day, but one that was non-negotiable to me.  A club member rode up with me, so I wasn’t alone for the drive, providing some conversation to distract me from my thoughts.  We arrived a little early, so when we walked into the event, Spud’s daughter Ashley was the first person I saw.  She was headed out to meet up with some other riders coming to the event, so I only got a quick hug.

Shortly after, a group of riders, mostly our club members from the surrounding chapters, rode into the parking lot.  I was unaware that this chapter has a tradition of taking one last ride with a deceased member’s cut, to honor them.  For this ride, they also carried his ashes, so truly have one last ride together.  Once parked, all club members, us included, lined up and the decorative box containing Spud’s ashes was passed down the line, allowing us all a moment to “hug” and say goodbye.  Another wonderful tradition they have here.  The parking lot went quiet as the ashes were passed, and many eyes were wet.  When everyone had their moment, we all went inside to enjoy some refreshments, snacks, and tell Spud Stories… #IYKYK. 

Inside was where I got my required bear hug from Ashley, and we both let loose.  Holding her in my arms as we both cried was more cathartic than I expected.  Once we both dried our eyes, I was introduced to her fiancé and enjoyed some conversation with them.

Shortly after, we started the long process of saying goodbye to everyone so we could start the long drive back.  It rained both ways of the trip, but that provided some background noise in the quiet, and pretty much matched my emotions.

I am still processing Pete’s death so I am going to end here before I ramble.

Brother Spud, I miss you so much, my friend.  Give Crusher a hug for me.

Sunset and evening star,

      And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

      When I put out to sea,

   But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

      Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

      Turns again home.

  Twilight and evening bell,

      And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

      When I embark;

  For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place

      The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

      When I have crost the bar.

- Crossing the Bar, ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

Remember to always Spin the Compass…