Listing sadness so I can move on

I cant stop thinking about the numerous friends and special acquaintances who have died in the past few years (and this list does not include loved family members). In order to deal with the losses, I am going to list them and hope in some way, this is a type of closure.
Denny -gone almost a year. He was my compatriot for 22 years in good deeds and an airtight friendship. He died in his mid-50s. He was a rouge, scallawag, selfish, wealthy, womanizer, recovered alcoholic after becoming a brittle diabetic. He was too bright, very emotionally needy, never overlooked a stray human or animal, loved what he loved, hated what he hated and let the world know. When he was young he took what he wanted from people and in business transactions and it came to haunt him in his last years. We were friends because of our syncing brains. He was the friend who said, pssst...got something cool to show you..and he generally did. He was a little boy in a grown man's body and because he grew up overweight, fought all his life to put those tough years behind him and be the friend of choice, the man of choice, for a short time, the husband of choice. He was utterly loyal and brilliant. There are so many things about politics, people savvy, financial plans that Denny taught me --he colored my world. I could see once his second wife who married him for the money then split, left, he was not going to do well on his own. I miss your phone calls, half-baked and dead on plans Denny. I am sorry I only called you and didnt come hold your hand in hospital. I didn't realize you were not going to bounce back this time. You were a fascinating, irritating, lovable beautiful human being. I am the luckiest to have you close for more than 2 decades.
Traci: She was responsible for hiring me many years ago at the VA...she gave me my first job. She died in her early 40s about 10 years ago...she did a William Holden, falling down stone drunk, hit her head and all alone, bled to death. Before drinking won, she was the most in a moment. A beautiful Irish woman all love, full of life, finding the best in people and helping nurture them so they could succeed. Her big love broke her heart, followed by the unexpected death of her dad. That was her turning point. There was no stopping the drinking. She dated a friend called Cowboy Bob. He told me later he wished he could have "got to her before Mike did." Me too. God Bless you Boss T...I know you are an angel holding court. Thank you for believing in me. There isn't a day I don't miss you.
Gale: One of God's newest angels, Gale passed away about a month ago. He was in his early 80s. He was the father of two of my friends from my formative years; an elder at the church I attended and a lifelong friend. He used to counsel me on making smart moves; and always sent love and hugs from he and his bride of 60 years each Christmas. About five months ago I ran into Gale at the VA and we sat and talked for maybe a half hour in his car (he wanted to drive me around the corner to my car so I didn't have to walk in a big wind storm). He was a stoic, a good, stable family man--he and his wife bought my aunt and uncle's rich people's house and his girls and I were church mice causing havoc each Sunday at church and at their home. When I lived through a fire storm during a local political election some years ago, he was at my back, always. Who doesn't need a strong role model all their life, as a wing man. I am thinking back on your advice more and more as I get older. You were cool for an old guy...I am just realizing now, how cool.
Linda Lou: Mother of two girls--she was married to my big kids' dad's best friend and we were newlyweds and young parents together. She died this Dec. 16 of cancer. She was 48. I loved how real Linda was--she was a girl from cowboy country who took no prisoners. You either loved her or leave her alone. She was far from physically beautiful but life raged inside her, coming out in giant belly laughs and a million great stories. I am so happy you met and married your prince who loved you right where you were at this past July-- and that your girls had you for as long as they did. You were a good friend to me...God speed. I know you are story telling around a campfire in your blue jeans Linda Lou.
Mike: Mike died last year just a swell guy in his early 50s. My sister's ex-husband, who dropped dead at home, in the chair, with his newly married second wife in the other room. You were supposed to live to be an old man with a million million stories Mike. Not this. He was the big love of my sister's life. I was always so sorry they could not, in two attempts, make things work for the long term. There was a beautiful caring between them. He was the hot rodding, steady as you go food processing mechanic whose mom dressed him growing up, as a dapper young cowboy. Every girl had a crush and every guy wanted a chance to hang with Mike. Sister of mine, you had a slice of the good life when Mike came to your rescue when you became pregnant with a rebound bf's child at 17. You and Mike married like you should have-would have, anyway...and he loved you always and took good care of you and the baby who is now 33. I am sure you are four-wheeling up there Mike. Thanks for the love you fused into my sister, it keeps her strong still.
William Michael: It absolutely kills me to think you died in a hospital bed just 10 minutes from where I work because the cancer you fought for almost 10 years, won. I am sorry sorry sorry you suffered. You called me your first and I called you my first. Boyfriend and Girlfriend that is. Wild Bill gave me a silver ring in 6th grade. I put it on even though it was much too small. My finger was turning purple and my dad had to cut it off with a saw. We went steady for as long as I had the ring on. When it was, at last, off my left ring finger, we were through going steady. Seemed like a lot of work. But thank you for spending your $3 allowance at the dime store in Walla Walla for a ring just for me. Bill was an interesting person that, because he didn't know himself, he was unknowable. Guarded, a chameleon. Charming and pesky. We spent all our junior high and high school years running with a gang of friends, causing trouble at summer church camps and devising ways to bother our youth minister, Norm. William Michael I am glad you grew up to have a good life for awhile with your wife and two kids before you got so sick so long. How did I lose touch and not tell you how much you meant to me. I know you are the mischieveous angel. I just wish you would have had many more birthdays so we could tell our dumb kid stories at each class reunion. Who am I going to talk to about sanding pig cutting boards with our bottoms and flying trainer bras we stole from camp counselors and other girls (I was your up till now your unknown accomplice). Who can I have that important conversation with now? I will love you and your zillion watt smile always William Michael.
John N: He was more my ex husbands friend, but he was my friend too for a long period of time when I was first married to my big kid's dad. John was amazing. He could fix anything; make anything; had a joke about everything; loved life and lived it large. A memorable summer outing with John, his wife and John's brother Donnie. We were fossil hunting in OR before it was illegal to be doing so on govt land. The ex, John and Donnie were drinking nonstop in the evenings and night. I was the driver in the middle of nowhere fossil land, going from site to site. John could play any musical instrument. They drank, John played, they all sang love songs, folk songs, drinking songs, ballads, John played, told jokes for what seemed like days. I will never forget how much he loved his girls and his wife. The wife had a midlife crisis for a year or so, with another woman and then came home. John just waited for her to do so. He died two years ago at 58. He had just retired the year before so he and his wife could enjoy their life and travel. That's wrong.
Margaret and Jack. My Mo and Po. These exceptional people passed a year ago. They were married for 67 years. They were my other mom and dad and I would not have survived my young adult years without them. They were the babysitters I mentioned above when talking about Linda Lou. They cared more on, than off, for my three wonderful kids and I. Mo and Po loved each other, life and everyone. Their home was the meeting place and problem solving place. As new parents and newlyweds, there was lots of learn, know, do and not do. Mo and Po were there, 25 hours a day, to help anyone needing conversation, food, advice, make a good decision. Jack rode his dad's best horse up to Margaret's house early one morning and said, get on, we are getting married. And she did, and they did. Their first house was a tent in the middle of the freezing cold Blue Mountains; their first car was a Harley. They came to own a lot of property and businesses in Elgin, OR. They lived the high life, lost everything and then learned to live like the rest of us. Fortunate me, to have them in my life for nearly 25 years. The ways they influenced myself and loved the kids and I so thoroughly will have to be writ another day. Love you love you love you. Here's to your straight shot of vodka each morning (Po called it medicine) and your 67 years of togetherness. We all need an example just like you two, to keep us set straight and love by example. I know Po is playing all night poker at the big table in the heavens while Mo is cooking up some indescriably delicious grub and laughing like the school girl, at Po's jokes.
I know I am missing a couple of friends and will add them when I recall.
All I know is, the first time you lose a friend...and you don't say good bye and you have no talisman at all, sans memories, it's dark and horrible. A gaping hole with no possible way to fill it and no real way to express the depth of loss. I hope by blogging a little about all these good people who filled my world with good, with sense, with unconditional love and belief and belonging, I can move on. TTFN