This is the part where I tell you I'm fine, but I'm lyin'

The silly picture of Zac I brought to the river on Mardi Gras

I texted with Zac almost every Mardi Gras. It was fun to text him random pictures from my ridiculous shenanigans. For him and everyone else in America, it’s just Tuesday. He was always enthusiastic and encouraging about the artistic part of Mardi Gras. I wish he had come for at least one. It will always be part of the growing list of regrets I have for him.

Wish we made it to Disneyworld together.

Wish we went to Tokyo together.

Wish we hiked the Grand Canyon.

Wish we went back to Tucson more often.

Every Mardi Gras, we end up at the Mississippi River for a moment of introspection and pay respects for those that have passed. Several of my friends experienced loss this past year and Molly, one of my besties, made us a mix to honor those we lost. Molly shared the song Wishing Well by Juice Wrld and it overwhelmingly feels like Zac and the conversations he had with me, his friends, family and SKYY vodka. I chose it for the mix. We walked to the river in the freezing cold sunshine and listened to the song choices and shared a lot of tears. At the river, I threw in a stone I brought home from the desert and shared the goofy picture above. We had a toast to everyone’s loved ones, and held each other in our grief. Mardi Gras has always been more than untamed revelry and wanton debauchery (which itself is a beautiful thing and if you are reading this and haven’t experienced it, figure out a way to do it after this pandemic); it’s also a cathartic experience that allows you to release the pain and grief of being human, Whatever happens on Mardi Gras day was meant to happen. This year we were meant to freeze our butts off at the river, in the sunshine, trying to deal with the shitty year we had, trying to help each other through.

Not coincidentally, because there are few coincidences on Mardi Gras day, Panorama Jazz Band was playing a set at the levee almost right where we held our remembrance. Live music, which I took for granted before the pandemic, is now such a gift and I’m so grateful to Panorama for that treat.

I wish Zac had come for Mardi Gras but I also recognize that New Orleans for Mardi Gras is not the best environment for an alcoholic. He would’ve loved the creativity and chaos of it and maybe would’ve found some of the catharsis as well.

This is the part where I tell you I'm fine, but I'm lyin'
I just don't want you to worry
This is the part where I take all my feelings and hide 'em
'Cause I don't want nobody to hurt me