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we went to a memorial on saturday for todd wilson. it was a lovely service for a lovely man. todd grew up going to the same church in troy, ny as i did. about a decade older, he was my junior high youth group leader in what seems like a different lifetime.

he moved to san francisco. when i first came to reconnoiter in the late 90s, he was a great host and evangelist of san francisco. he wouldn't let me pay for anything. he took me on a bike ride up the railroad grade on mt. tam because i told him i liked mountain biking. he was a bike commuter, but not really a biker. mt. tam is a little bigger than market street. but no big whoop.

when i decided to move here, i asked him if i might crash at his place for a bit while i looked for an apartment (in 2000, the worst possible time to look for an apartment in san francisco). he and his partner chris welcomed me without hesitation. they were scheduled to be out of town when i arrived. he sent me a house key in the mail with the only request being that i water the plants (i think i overwatered a cactus, sorry!). he was pivitol in making my move to the left coast that much more manageable. when i didn't really know many people here at all, he opened himself and his home up to me. all in his smiling, open, completely non-mental, non-judgemental way. when you're with todd, everything is going to be just fine.

that same year, when i didn't go home for holidays, he invited me to his intimate family xmas eve dinner. good company and a gourmet dinner (thanks to chris) during a decidedly blue period of my life, during the bluest time of the year if you don't have a place to go. for all these things i will be forever indebted to him. of course he would have never seen it that way.

he was a talented dba and passionate independent film maker. i also have him to thank for my imdb entry. he made films that reinforced his ability to be exactly who he was. respectfully, positively, and unapologetically a gay man.

even though we did not remain close as my life in san francisco took root, he was, without a doubt, a person who i was just happy to know was in the world. i think the last time i saw him was last winter sometime. both commuting up market street on bikes. traffic, darkness and the general chaos of the daily commute made it so i did not get to say hello, and i'm not sure he saw me, but his 6'6" frame pedaling his upright commuter bike was unmistakable. maybe i noticed he had a cough. he died of lung cancer at the age of 42 and will be sorely missed.

when i found out from my family that he had fallen ill, i wasn't sure exactly what to do. i knew that, with the life he lived, he was well supported. and given that, i didn't really feel close enough for it to seem natural for me to reach out. i don't know if i was worried about seeming more of a burden on him than a help. maybe that he might not feel comfortable accepting help from me. those are my insecurities on confronting mortality talking and i still feel a little guilty for that, yet as i heard updates, and went to the memorial, i saw just how strong a community he had built around himself, and how it helped him through his final days. so i'll let this be my little contribution.

<br> (ix) - cafe patron