Tuesday, April 20, 2010

73 E 200 N

This post is inspired by Janessa, your final caretaker.

You were there when I got home from my mission. We were both young and I didn't know you very well, and I often felt lonely when I was with you - but I had a feeling we would share many great moments together.

You listened as Zach and I lived together and talked passionately ( :p ) about matters of faith. You remember....what is and what is not.

You counseled with me and Fernando that if we were ever going to meet girls we would need to stop working and studying so much. What ensued were a pair of random dates...you remember Pillar and Tundra - right?

You let us borrow your wall to project the Jazz coming back furiously against the Suns. You even let me slap my hand against your ceiling in jubilation - only the kind a young man passionate about his hometown team can feel. (Remember that game Nich and Zach?)

You laughed when Richard finally got mad at me for constantly saying (queue high voice) RIIIIIIIIICHAAAAAAAAARD!

You were awakened when, after having to sleep out in the hall because Richard just would not go to bed, Zach was stepped on, while sleeping, by the one and only...Richard.

You begged for your windows to be opened, even on a cold winter morning, after Raul consistently cooked up something putrid for breakfast. Not sure exactly what it was - but Dios...

You were annoyed too when Colby and Jamie laid down on the LoveSac AFTER I was already on the couch studying...to makeout.

We kept you up late as Rob and I reminisced about living in North Carolina and knocking on trailer doors trying to convert people...while avoiding being chased by angry dogs.

You wouldn't let me open the door when someone knocked...especially on Sundays. I forgive you for that.

You spied on me and Courtney when we watched our first movie together. A moment that resulted in a loveship that hurts now that we are apart. You weren't there, but you should know that one moment resulted in many tennis matches so full of anger and foul cursing. However, on equal occasions, there were victors dances and praises to the almighty God of Tennis - Penn 3.

You sometimes left the door unlocked when I was the last one home from the BYU library studying Accounting (why? God only knows).

You agreed with Fernando when he told me I was crazy for "not being sure" after my second date with Jenn. Months later you watched Jenn and I share our second kiss on the LoveSac, share thoughts, stories, and worries...cook pizza, lettuce wraps and salmon in your kitchen. Eventually, after marriage of course, you let us push two twin beds together to fit our queen air mattress.

You didn't mind that I got your carpet wet when I came in after pondering in the hot tub as crystal flakes fell on blankets of white.

You were always right around the corner from festival latina, comedysportz, India Garden, Mountain High - Sucursal Latina, Smiths, and Diego's Taco Shop. Thanks for that.

I am sad to say that I can't make it to your funeral. However, I feel strongly that, at least for you, reincarnation will be possible. I might drive by, but it just won't be the same knowing you are with someone else.

You can't keep the digital TV box though, I have to get that back to Comcast. Goodbye forever, my friend.


4 comments:

Janessa said...

hahaha Richard....

I loved everything about this. I almost wanted to write another blog post with some more experiences of my own. The condo also forbade me from answering the door on Sundays. This kept out the 32 year old men seeking companionship in a 20 year old girl...

It really is sad to see it go! It was a part of your life for many years. I only had one precious year, and it wasn't enough. Long live Belcourtyard 104!!!!!!!

Unknown said...

You guys are crazy. But in a funny sort of way :)

Zach said...

Hahah, how did I miss this. I remember the day when Richard finally broke.

I was the only one there when 73 E 200 N was born. I walked in and said... "Yeah... yeah, this place could work." And work it did.

Aaron said...

haha I agree. When I walked in I was like "okay, okay." Maybe we should write a thank you card to Dad or something?