David's memorial. Oh man. Methodist Church filled to capacity, with more people outside than in, somewhere around 500 people altogether. My, my, my.

I sat with Little Miss Thing, and two women I didn't know. We shared Kleenex and a garbage bag. I had to put the program into my backpack. Looking at David's smiling face in full non-living color was too fucking much. Tears all over the place. Thanks, Cajun, for the Kleenex box. It came in handy for all four of us.

The best part was that our friend Kevin came back from Indiana to speak. He talked about how our world had been shaken, but not our foundation. He mentioned being home on our Island, in the place where he has the greatest connection. We all knew exactly what he meant. I have missed Kevin's off-kilter wisdom.

There were so many students, former and current. It felt like the whole island was there. I didn't stick around to "fellowship", feeling more like hitting the grocery store and then settling into a nice, long relationship with comfort food. (By the population of the grocery store, about half the people from the memorial did the same. I saw lots of pizzas.)

I highly recommend the balsamic-marinated mini onions from the Vashon Thriftway olive bar. They go especially well with Essential Baking Company's kalamata olive bread. Add to that two pieces of California Pizza Kitchen's garlic chicken pizza, six jumbo shrimp sautéed in butter and sea salt, some mozzarella cherries, bleu cheese crumbles and a little hot chocolate mix with half and half, and you've got a nice afternoon of emotional eating.

And now I'm done. Early to bed. New day in the morning.