...peace, love, joe...

It seemed appropriate that it was raining as hard as it was. There has to be some physical manifestation in the world of a grief this size. And when it stopped after 45 minutes, I was angry because it wasn't enough. How can less than an hour of wet weather symbolize the loss of an entire life?

In her own grief and frustration, Kelly said that why does it even matter now that he ever stopped dealing, ever got off the bad track, off the streets, if this was how it was going to end. I told her no, because we're all better for him having changed his life around. We're all better for having had him love us, and give us free hugs, and share his stories with us, and work endlessly to change the world, one person at a time.

I wandered around the city for over an hour. We said that the reason was because we wanted to find Alex and be around someone else who knew what we were feeling. I don't know about Janet, but I just needed to get out. I needed to have a reason to leave the house, a purpose, something to do - because suddenly I didn't know what to do anymore, and nothing had a purpose. In Toronto, in California, in Indiana, in Massachussetts, and countless other places, we are wondering what to do. The only thing we can do is sit here in front of the news, trying to soak up all the information we can from Buffalo, to find what happened, how it could happen, why.

I keep running over the phone call in my head, thinking maybe I misheard, maybe it doesn't mean what I think it means. Maybe the words "there's been an accident" and "he's no longer with us" can be taken in a way that doesn't leave such a gaping whole in everything that matters.

I want to be with the people who understand, because if you never knew Joe you will never understand. I want this to not have happened. I want to know what we're supposed to do now.