R.I.P. Ricky

I got a phone call yesterday and Josh told me that Ricky was had died in a car accident on the freeway early that morning. I asked him if he knew what happened, and he said he didn't but would call me back if he heard anything. The connection clicked off and I was left standing in Mike's living room in silence staring out the window at the mountains and clouds and cactus.

The realization of loss is not immediate, but like grains of sand in an hour glass it slowly builds until its weight is crushing and it pulls you down making even the simplest of life's actions seem impossible.

Cliché expressions such as "it couldn't have happened to a better person" never held any water to me but now I understand and believe it true. The sun rose yesterday as any other day, but the world was a little less bright and one more family was morning the loss of a child. It happens every day, but yesterday it was my friend.

In life Ricky was the type of person you were always glad to see. He was quick with a smile and a laugh and would keep us doubled over in hysterics with impersonations and silly voices from the pale couch in our band's practice room.

I know him best as a musician, standing in front of his amp with his guitar slung low in the shadow of the red and green stage lights pounding power chords and strumming melodies with a quiet confidence.

I am sure wherever he is now, he is kicking ass and rockin' out with a smile on his face, hoping that his friends back in the world don't stay bummed out for too long, but it's tough dude. You will be missed.