Running over the same old ground. And how we found. The same old fears. Wish you were here.

 

This is one man’s perspective on another man who was loved by many. You have yours and it might be different from mine and that’s okay. Writing this is also my singular path of dealing with grief, and loss through celebration of a life and a human I loved with all my heart. I have this creative outlet, this space and I choose to use it to share my thoughts on the one, the only, the eternal Badass Theodore “Knuckles” / “Teddy” Knutson.

 

In that little blue urn is my friend Ted. Technically speaking only a very small part of him. This little urn could never hold what Teddy meant to me, or my life.

Knuckles will always be larger than life in my eyes and heart.

At the celebration of his life they handed out these small blue urns and asked an equally small number of people to spread Teddy anywhere they wanted in the world. Thus continuing his epic adventure here on earth.

It’s such a beautiful idea.

It’s also an incredibly humbling honor I have been given. It’s an amazing gift that I have been given that Scott and Ted will continue on their excellent adventure together.

( Guitar riff ) Because we are indeed going on one.

It’s also extremely peaceful and comforting to have him in my house with me right now. Simultaneously, I also get the humbling  daily reminder that we will all be reduced to ash, Memento Mori.

If you knew him and you were at his celebration there is nothing I can say that you don’t know. If you don’t know him and you weren’t in that room I can never do it proper justice.

I laughed a lot. Hard, soul shaking, belly laughs. I’m not sure I can say that about many “funerals” I have attended. Actually zero. Teddy would have loved it.

Knuckles loved laughing.

I cried. That was expected. But I never cried at a live band at a “funeral.” Teddy had a childhood friend who is a musician. His friend and two others formed a power trio that played music in his honor.

Knuckles loved a good power trio.

His friend spoke of Teddy and then played Pink Floyd songs.

Knuckles loved Floyd.

They played Shine on you crazy diamond, and Wish you were here. The tears just came.

 

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and unspeakable love.”

Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi

 

Teddy was a crazy diamond. And how I wished he was here. No words, just chords on a guitar and I felt the excruciating weight of knuckles absence. I looked into the deep void.

The room was full and it was large room. I would guess over 400 people. You could actually feel Teddy there. Not just in all the pictures and faces that shared him but his spirit. The love for him was a force in the room.

Knuckles loved Star Wars.

Knuckles would have loved how he was a Jedi warrior that day. 

The force was strong.

I don’t believe Teddy understood how much he was loved. It struck me that day that maybe none of us really does. We don’t understand the true width and depth our lives have on other people. We don’t really know how many people love us and when its time to bear witness to that love we aren’t here to see it in its fullest glory.

I hope teddy had a front row seat for it. Man, he earned it. He deserved it.

He might have never truly known how much he was loved but he sure as hell loved the stuffings out of other people, unconditionally and in his truly unique Teddy way.

Everyone felt that love. It was in the room. It filled the room like the air itself.

I have a pretty good idea where Knuckles and I are going. Where I will open this beautiful little blue urn and unleash his ashes into the wind, the sky, the universe.

Running over the same old ground
And how we found
The same old fears
Wish you were here.

I’ve been warned not to Big Lebowski it. Teddy would love it if I did. So I reserve the right to do it for comedic reasons which was always more than okay with Knuckles.

Teddy loved laughing.

I am honored to call Teddy my friend. He always will be as long as I’m here.

Teddy was a magician. He wasn’t just bigger than life, he was different from life. The rules of mere mortals did not apply to Knuckles. Teddy was like a real, make believe friend. I didn’t have a make believe friend as a kid, Teddy was that for me. Hanging out with him was like being in a kids book in real life. It was magical and fun and pure. He told stories I can never tell. He met people I would never meet. He did things I will never do. He was like a child and I mean that with the utmost respect and admiration. He was so incredibly guileless.

I am honored to have this unbelievable gift of saying goodbye to him this way. To spread his magic into the world.

At the end of his celebration they had a beautiful video of his life in pictures and the music was RUSH.

Teddy loved RUSH.

I love RUSH.

I love Teddy.

 

This quote by St. Exupery reflects my grief over the loss of Teddy.

“Ponder for a long time whether you shall admit a given person to your friendship,”

Seneca counseled in considering true and false friendship,

“but when you have decided to admit him, welcome him with all your heart and soul.”

To lose a friend who has earned such wholehearted admission into your soul is one of life’s most devastating sorrows. Whatever shape the loss takes — death, distance, the various desertions of loyalty and love that hollow out the heart — it is one of life’s most devastating sorrows.

It is also one of life’s most absolute inevitabilities — we will each lose a beloved friend at one point or another, to one cause or another.