For Nicky

The summer of 2013 was hot in New York City. It was the kind of heat that draped itself like a wet blanket over your skin, that radiated from hot asphalt and got caught in the maze of skyscrapers.  Warm sweaty bodies crowded the streets.

We were there, too, M and I, and so were Nicky and Mike. They'd driven down all the way from Montreal to spend a couple of days on Manhattan with us.  It was the first time I ever met Nicky in person. It would also be the last time.

We ate, we drank, we walked. We had a picnic in Central Park and walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. We sat in the neon-lit night and talked and laughed. In a dark little bar Nicky and I had a drink named after us, and in Little Italy we had the Best Cannoli on Planet Earth.

Occasionally things got a little wild, and when it was time for Nicky and Mike to head back home, I actually tried to pack Nicky in my suitcase and take her home with me.

I missed her when I got back home, and I'm still missing her today. It breaks my heart that I will never again meet her or talk to her, because now, Nicky only lives in our hearts and memories.  There, on Brooklyn Bridge in a warm and sunny New York City, Nicky's walking along ahead of me and laughing when I want to take just one more picture.

Thank you for your friendship, Nicky.

I will never forget.

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For Nicky