For Andrew Knox Dwyer
If I had one wish today, I would safely say, that I would want to remember our last conversation. As far as I can tell, from one to another cell, I remember almost everything anyway. But to share some of your cheer, or a couple more beers, for a couple more years would give my heart some peace. I can hear your laugh, you goon of a friend, so loyal you were to me…and to every other God dammed kid you met…and now your soul is free. Compassion and passion are very different things, yet you made it seem so easy…in your family, in your heart, on the links, even in your farts. You made it easy to combine your water with wine, fun never knew such an advocate. And how you loved to compete, not to mention eat, could you- would you have ever worn a suit? And I can skim through the pages of summers past, comparing our ages, and think of the one time I beat you in Beirut. So in the clouds you reside with a soundtrack of the tide and broken-record battle cry repeating. And if the Jets ultimately lose, you’ve got your Foreman and your booze, you’re in heaven, you Dogg…though it was fleeting. But I am glad I had the chance, to watch you “get down” and dance, to see you flirt with romance, and spill beer on your pants. And I can sigh someday, and safely day, to my son as he plays, that sport which you slayed, that I remember our last conversation
Memories of Andrew
Firstly, I think of playing a late half-round of golf on Fisher’s Island with a couple of beers in the back of the cart…since I would give up on my game after about six holes, and Andrew…wel…beer went along with most every activity after 5:00 pm.
He loved that golf course, and he never refused to play with me, even when he knew my game would ultimately deteriorate into ‘picking up’ every other hole.
Secondly, I remember New Year’s Eve, 2003. It wasn’t a stellar year, in Andrew’s and my eyes. Rawleigh had been thrown in a pool, and he and Emily Parsons went home early. So Swedge (he hated that name, so I’ll stop using it now) and I went back to his house to try to catch up with Elly, Nancy, and Blue. Alas, they were in bed, so Andrew and I hung out on the steps between the pool room and his “Love Pad”. I remember talking with him about how everyone always scurries around to find New Year’s plans every year…he said that what he loved about New Year’s at Jupiter Island was that it was guaranteed…he always had a spot at the table. I think he always will.
I’ll always remember his voice. The way he mumbled when his sandwich had pickles, or when his approach shot barely missed the green. The way he danced at a beach party (how those girls would swoon!). Always a presence, always a friend.