Sunday, February 26, 2012


There are no words to describe what your tributes (Kim, Savannah, Philip, Fay, Pat, Wandering Coyote and Stinkypaw), comments, and cards have meant to me.

You all were his best friends, confidants and supporters for many years and I thank you all.

I have printed out all of the blogs and am keeping them close.

I open up Charlie’s blog and he comes alive again. We never liked to have our pictures taken so going back over the years of his blog is like his picture album of the last several years. I miss not having the Admiral Pooper Scooper writing.

I would always say ‘see ya later’ or ‘later’ when I would leave the house---never goodbye. I knew the time would come when ‘later’ would mean a lot longer than a few hours, but that was my way of dealing with the reality of Charlie dying. It just wasn’t going to happen now, but of course my Charlie died and it will probably be more than a few hours before we meet again.

Thank You All.


Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Farewell, My Friend

Martha Callahan called me to let me know that Charlie passed away this afternoon.

I was able to talk to him for a little while last week when he was moved to hospice. He didn't want anyone to blog about it until after he was gone. Charlie, being Charlie, didn't want us to fret over him. Martha has asked me to write a little something to let all his friends know.

I met Charlie when I started my blog 6 years ago. He was my first friend in blogland. We bonded over a mutual loathing of Nora Roberts and her writing, if you can believe it. :-) Although we've never met in person, we've talked on the phone from time to time over the years.

During a conversation after Christmas, he wanted his blog friends to know how much you meant to him. He hadn't been able to get out and around for quite a while, and having you in his life became a whole new world. And near the end, during our last conversation, he was thinking of us---people he'd never met in real life---but people who brought a lot of joy to him.

I looked around for an appropriate poem or quote to use for this---something solemn and deep and meaningful. But every time I found a poem with possibilities, I could just hear him snorting into my ear, "what a load of crap!"

So what would Charlie have said? I imagine it would have been something like "See, I told you I was sick!" That would have been more his style, smartass that he was.

There's an old Inuit legend that talks about the stars in the night sky. "Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."

I want to remember you with that, Charlie.

Tonight I'm going to go outside and tell the stars how much I'm going to miss you. I hope you can hear me.

Godspeed, my dear, dear friend.

If anyone wants to say words in celebration of Charlie's life, I'm sure it will be a comfort to Martha.

Blessings to all,
Attila the Mom