July 6, 2004: A year has gone by since the passing of our beloved Mikey, and words continue to fail me as to how to reconcile the battle between the perplexity of loss and the warmth of having known his beautiful spirit. At times, the latter makes the former ache even more sharply. The other night I came across one of our favorite movies on tv: "Truly, Madly, Deeply." The film is sweetly sentimental, just like Mikey himself. He always said it was "what 'Ghost ' could have been if it didn't suck." In it, the characters recite a poem, in a part I had forgotten.

La Muerta (excerpt, transl.)

No, forgive me:
If you no longer live,
if you, beloved, my love,
if you
have died,
all the leaves will fall on my breast,
it will rain on my soul night and day,
the snow will burn my heart,
I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow,
my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping,
But
I shall stay alive,
because above all things you wanted me
indomitable,
and, my love, because you know that I am not only a man
but all mankind.
-Pablo Neruda

Despite the passing of a year, a hole remains that I don't know how to fill. It helps to remember Mikey's enthusiasm for life, whether it was for music, movies, barbecue, or bargains. I treasure the memories I have of his loping gait in those size 9 Chuck Taylors; that ubiquitous newspaper snagged off a seat on the T and tucked under his arm; of his frenetic air-drumming in the middle of the open pit space before a 9 o'clock band; of our sharing coffee and cookies after a double bill at the Brattle; his dump-in-all-the-leftovers omelets.

It helps to remember his incredible dignity in the aftermath of the stroke; that despite becoming nearly helpless in the physical realm, he developed a tremendous power to inspire kindness and courage in many people. I benefited in so many ways from knowing Mikey: I met some incredible people in the music scene; I got a chance to write for some local press; and I learned how to be a better, braver person than I was. It may sound corny, but when things seem rough, I always think of Mikey, and remember how lucky I am, and what perspective really is. Thank you, Dee.

-M.A. Ricciardi