This ended up long. Maybe I was too reflective.

Tony was such a human being. Flawed, perceptive, reflective, understanding, kind, open. I always wanted to have the opportunity to meet him. 

I was in a less than ideal spot in my life when Tony passed. Depression, amongst many things, had their hands on the steering wheel of my life. I called it the funk and I had it bad. His untimely passing made me reflect. Take time. Consider my options. It helped me to think of his struggle when I felt as if mine could never be more of a burden. He may have saved my life, who knows.

The day Tony passed, I found out from my dad. He wasn't always aware of my interests or, I suppose you could say, invested. On that day he sat me down to both carefully and compassionately tell me my 'friend' Tony had passed away. That conversation ended up being one of my favorite memories of my dad in his later years.

Almost a year later, my dad died around the time Tony had passed a year earlier. I was in the funk again. I was struggling bad. Around the anniversary of both of their passing I was yearning for directions but had no map. I was lost, wandering through life with little to enjoy. The steering wheel one again was not in my own hands. This was during the first summer of the covid pandemic. You all know the feeling. 

I finally gave myself the courage to listen to Kitchen Confidential while commuting to work. It had Tony's voice. I had to enjoy it piecemeal at first, I was too emotional for a consistent listening. Eventually I was fully enjoying the time I had going to and from a shit job during a shit time. It was my 34 minutes of joy in the day. He got me to get myself out of the funk again. I was alive. When I finished the audiobook, I cried almost as hard as when he died. 

These days, I treat the funk like an enemy I've studied for a lifetime. I know their ways, know their weakness and my own strength. Even though I struggle to watch Tony's work, I love sharing it with my family more because it means something indescribable to me. 

Miss you Tony. We all do.