L.A. Olympics 1984, and what comes after...

I have no photos for this one, because the thing that motivated me to blog was the end of something that happened in a different life, although it was definitely my life.

My sweet cousin Bethy called me tonight and said, "I have something weird to tell you, and you need to know that if you ask questions my answers will all be...I don't know." She told me, "Jon S_____ was found dead last night at the Beverly Hills Hotel."

He was the son of my dad's younger brother's oldest friend. He was 50 years old. We met during the Los Angeles Olympics, and had a brief and wild thing. It was the 80's and life was about the party...the never-ending party. It ended when I realized he was battling addictions and that living 3000 miles apart wasn't working for either of us, and that any woman in his life would always live in the shadow of his deceased mom. And sadly, I respected my almost-husband's request to not speak to Jon...this is a regret.

When I think of Jon, I think of the Beverly Hills Hotel. I think of the first night we met, at Morton's, and being instantly so comfortable we were sharing food. I think of the champagne bar that was in BH, that we used to frequent, but which I can't remember the name of. I think of Bruce Springsteen. I think of the most lovely NY restaurants and bars and after-hours clubs. I think of the Quilted Giraffe. I think of excess. I think of how different his life would have been if his mother hadn't died of cancer so many years ago. When I think of Jon, I remember good times...I remember sadness at the end, and I will always remember what a special man he was.

My heart goes out to the family, and to all who knew and loved Jon. However, he is now with his mother, and will truly rest in peace.