Strong Like Bull: One Year Later
Andy, my brother, it's crazy to think it's been a full year since we last heard your magnificent cackle. How I miss it, and think about it every day. I hope you've found peace and happiness, love and laughter. Though you're gone, I think we all rest a little bit easier at night knowing somewhere, someone is getting to meet you for the very first time. Someone's on the receiving end of a firm handshake, a furrowed brow and an enormous smile. But most importantly, they're finding a friend - for life. Where would we all be without that impression you left on us? Without the confidence you gave us to go into the world and treat people with respect? To be healthy and strong (and pretty quick, too), to love and be loved. To laugh at every possible occasion (especially at ourselves) and be a dependable (and irreplaceable) shoulder to cry on. To live life to its fullest, and consume all of the ice cream we can possibly get our mitts on. To run fast, and do our pull-ups. And our push-ups. To stoke the competitive fire whenever possible. Especially with friends. To adore our parents and savor every opportunity to teach a child. To eat - oh, to eat - and to very truly "drink and be merry". Perhaps most importantly, to cherish the vital moments we are so lucky to share with loved ones, friends and family. These rules, the Andy Rules - I just don't know where, or who, I would be without them. I'm sure - I know - there are probably many people who agree with me. Etched onto a stone tablet: no. Memorialized into the upward corners of your legendary and winsome smile: indeed. Because you've lost your touch doesn't mean you'll ever lose your touch: of this, I am sure. You will, and always will be, a friend, a mentor, a brother and a brightly lit path for greeting each day with renewed warmth, desire and compassion. We are fragile, but our bonds our not.
Be good, my friend. We miss you. As always, Strong Like Bull.