Birth Day.

This is what "LIVING" looks like.

A thirteen-year-old boy with a healthy dose of self-esteem in a faux-fur coat on skis

in a suburban Maine neighborhood on a winter's evening. And I wish I could go out there

and hug him. Right. Now.

Today is Cole's birthday. It's hard for me to believe it's the third birthday without him. He'd

have been twenty. But for me...this is him. Always. Ageless. Cool. Dressed in women's

clothing. Looking glorious. And not giving a sh*t. ;)

One recent evening I ended up going down the internet rabbit hole...transitioning seamlessly

from some spiritual sleep-inducing video to what ended up being a marathon of interviews

with Prince. Before he died. (Obviously. If they were interviewing him after his departure,

I'd really have been spreading the news!). He was so straight-up and "out there" and unedited

with his feelings and thoughts and opinions. He didn't mess around or mince words. And yet,

he was also decidedly warm-hearted and funny about it all.

Someone mentioned birthdays. And he stated the obvious fact that we have only ONE

BIRTH DAY. One day upon which we are born. And therefore, he considers that to have

been his only birthday. And therefore, hasn't had subsequent birthdays. Which is why,

as he brilliantly pointed out, he never changes or ages and always looks fucking fabulous.

Which, hello...he does. Or did.

And I totally agree with his birthday philosophy.

In another video tidbit, his straight-laced, traditional looking interviewer mentioned he

was trying to look more cool for this interview with Prince. He asked Prince if he'd

ever wear the shoes he, the interviewer, was wearing.

Prince looked at the guy's shoes, hesitated, and then stated thoughtfully..."Hell No."

Really? Man. I love that guy!

Prince reminded me of Cole. Both so uber-cool. And uber-talented. And uber-snarky. And yet, still, so real. So warm. So funny. So full of of the mystery that is life. And they both did look absolutely fucking fantastic, may I add.

They're both "on the other side of the veil" now. Or the cheesecloth. Or the silk chemise.

And I completely believe that they're both dressed in faux-fur and vintage velvet and giving

the finger to any judgmental, uptight conformists that might be lurking in the afterlife. And

I love that belief. It sustains me in my darkest moments.

I found this photo of Cole recently when I was searching for images to use on my newly

transformed website, "Meat and Romance" (a name of which I know both my son and

Prince would approve). I had never seen this photo. At first, I didn't even know who it was.

Because I wasn't wearing my reading glasses. But then I zoomed in and laughed out loud when

I saw it was him...circa 2012 I think...sporting his sister's newly acquired vintage faux-fur

coat. On a winter's evening on a rather slim slice of land between our house and our

neighbor's shrubbery.

On skis.

Giving the photographer, undoubtedly his brother or sister, the finger. Which was more of

a provocative, slightly irritating, warm-hearted, calling card gesture designed to make you laugh

when executed by Cole, rather than an actual "fuck off you asshole" kind of thing.

So here's to the anniversary of your BIRTH DAY oh babe of mine...if I can be half as much

of an individual as you (and Prince), I'll consider my life a raging success.

You inspire me every day. In every way. Whenever I want to give up, whenever I find myself

crying into my pillow...or my occasional dirty martini...I think of you and I say "yeah, fuck yeah!"

Your favorite battle cry. No matter how much my heart aches at not being able to hug you, I know

the shear force of you is all around me. I'm not giving up on life. And I'll never let you down.

Now...where'd you hide that coat?


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