Here Again, Changed.

and here we are again..

not so much the fingers
as the soul
that's pulled back to the
keyboard

the fingers need work
discipline
training

i am lazy
bafflingly so

work
writing
exercise
career

lazy
lazy
LATER

when it can always be put off
when there is so much else to do
and so much on t.v.

i want to write a book
i want to capture what i had
for that brief & beautiful moment in time

with matt

i want him to be remembered
certainly not just as a boyfriend
or as that pleasant, handsome blonde person

but rather
i want him to be remembered for all he was

now that he is gone

what happens in these situations?
on television
in faux-life
when someone dies

the music swells
tears rush to the surface
desperate to drown out something
wash away that catch
the tension held behind cheek bones
that knot beneath the chest

mostly they just cut to commercial
another scene
or jump to "three months later"

if only

i want to write about matt
knowing it will never be enough

self-fucking-indulgent
is all i can manage
on this, the first day of 2008

a year he never lived to see

at the start of 2007
matt and i lived together
had a life
or at least he did

now
for me
different job
different apartment
different relationship status
different friends
different goals
different turmoil
different, different everything

i fight the sadness
and that, at least, is trying

rarely giving in completely
working against the odds to smile
wanting to, in the end

make light of darkness
make light of deepest tragedy



Eulogy for Matthew Steven LaRoche
as delivered by Chris Clark
September 26, 2007

There was so much that Matt wanted all of us to know. He wanted us to have seen Angels in America on DVD, he wanted us to experience big city life, even just on vacation. He wanted us to have worked in a restaurant and KNOW how important leaving a 20% tip was.

He wanted us all to read regularly and write down our thoughts. He wanted us to accept all people, but never forget the importance of a politically incorrect joke. He just so wanted all of us to dance without judgement. To express our beliefs strongly and without fear. He just wanted to live and to inspire LIFE in the sometimes dark grey world around him.

Matt’s time on this earth was cut horrifically short. But we know that in his way he did more than most of us could ever dare. He worked non-stop and managed to graduate With Honors from the University of South Florida. He was employed under Dr. Marty Markowitz as well as Dr. Ho, who was named Time Magazine’s Person of the Year. With Matt’s dedicated and passionate work at the Aaron Diamond AIDS research center he has quite possibly contributed to what will someday be the cure for billions. And perhaps most importantly, he knew love.

He taught us all to embrace knowledge. To never settle for what’s easy. To always demand more from our government, more from our loved ones and more from ourselves.

Just a couple of days ago I was on the phone with a friend of ours. We were talking about Matt, how inexpressibly special he was. And I was struck when our friend Eric told a story that I had never heard. After two years as Matt’s boyfriend I thought I knew just about everything he had to say, the good, the bad and the sometimes very sloppy.

But our friend Eric told me about a conversation he’d had with Matt at some point during a party, while Matt was living in New York. Eric told me that Matt had begun to discuss his Uncle Mike, who had died of AIDS and who’d been the catalyst for Matt’s life’s work in HIV AIDS research, awareness and prevention.

I was told that Matt had expressed how important it was to him that his Uncle’s legacy be CARRIED ON. That as long as he was living NO ONE would stop Mike’s existence and importance in the world. That his Uncle Mike WOULD continue to live through him and his actions, through his stories and his love.

What a lesson Matt has taught us. To never, ever, under any circumstance allow ourselves to push our memories away. To never hide from the truth... And there were so many truths to Matt. That He Lived. That He Existed. That He Carved A Place In This World. And That He Mattered. So Much. “No more will we die silent deaths,” was a favorite quote of his. And it rings even more profoundly now.

We learn how fragile life is when the unspeakable sweeps through and robs us in the night. But it CANNOT take our memories, and it WILL NOT take our bond.

But then again, who could forget Matthew Steven LaRoche? It’s just not possible. He is with us now. Probably wishing they’d play some George Michael music and tsking some of the wardrobe choices we’ve made. He is laughing. And he is still. He is steadfastly courteous and brave. He is probably sipping a Diet Coke, researching new advancements in medicine at PubMed.com, watching Good Morning America before work with a steaming cup of coffee, talking about how hilarious Kathy Griffin is, playing with his nephew and niece Austin and Cay-Cay, dreaming up his next amazing hairstyle and craving ANYTHING with a little bit of Goat Cheese.

And he is telling all of us, like he’d quietly say to me, that he loves you all... completely.