A gathering to remember our Zoe on the first anniversary of her flight, into the mystic.

Words from brother Joe…

I was not able to be here today, which is sad, and so I sent some words in my place, which is also sad. Consider it a very low-tech hologram.

The thing that surprised me is how quickly we have arrived at this point. And I thought – it’s been a year living without Zoe. No emails. No posts. No phone calls.

I recently saw a picture I have of Zoe enjoying a Swiss Chalet dinner with gusto about a month before she picked her date. It seemed incredulous that someone so alive then could be so dead so soon after.

But I could only see what there was on the outside. On the inside, things weren’t so rosy. I knew I couldn’t control the outcome but I didn’t want to let her go. That’s nothing unusual for me. I have a problem with both of those things in general. But I did it anyways because that’s what she needed and when you’re dying you should get what you want – like on your birthday.

So, looking on the bright side – today we are celebrating the one year anniversary of the birth of Zoe’s death.

And in the first year of Zoe’s birth into death, I have probably thought of her more than at any other time in my life.

That’s ironic and poopy all at the same time.

When people are alive, you know they’re alive and you don’t worry about them not being alive much – kind of expect they’ll always be there.

Thinking about death is not everyone’s first choice as a pastime, unless you’re Woody Allen.

I thought I might find something on why it’s named 12 Mile Lake in my exhaustive Wikipedia research. 12 Miles from what? Or 12 miles long? I checked – it’s kilometers.

I’d hoped to unearth some long lost folklore I could weave into a story. You know, something like Gordie Lightfoot would turn into a National treasure in a song.

Why is it called 12 Mile Lake? Well, I think each mile represents an hour on the face of an old analog Grandfather clock. As the hands of time move forward, each mile of life’s journey unfolds. Until that time when you look at the clock and realize it’s one minute to midnight and…you can’t find your damn glass slipper anywhere. Life’s like that. Fuggedaboudit!

Live, Love, Laugh and it never hurts if you’re a little Looney Tunes.

Happy Anniversary, Zoe

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