Your reflections on life, loss, and the moments we are given resonated with my own experiences in profound ways. My father and brother, both lost to car accidents decades apart, are always in my thoughts—especially in January and February, the months that took them. The life I’ve lived, and the lives they didn’t, echo in every choice I make.
Your words honor Allison, Craig, and Paul with such tenderness.
The way you shared their lives, their quirks, and the paths they never had the chance to continue made me feel like I knew them too. I could see the laughter, feel the joy of their moments in Puerto Vallarta, and imagine the depth of connection they shared.
It’s a strange and bittersweet thing—to live with gratitude for the life we have while carrying the weight of those who didn’t get the same chance.
The sunsets we see, the meals we share, and the discoveries we make are marked by absence but also by the beauty of memory and love. Thank you for sharing this story; it’s a reminder of the fragility and wonder of being here, even in the midst of so much loss.
Michael, thank you for the acknowledgment. Life simply is. Whether it feels hard or soft, strenuous or easy, I’ve learned that much of this depends on how I relate to what is happening. The bird makes a sound. The bird sings beautifully. The bird scolds loudly. Same event. It is beyond our control. What remains within our control is how we react, the stories we choose to tell ourselves, and the shared humanity we embrace—or don’t.
I deeply relate to that sense of relief and gratitude mixed with sadness at the loss of the lives of your friends and their loved ones. I've found myself often reflecting when something difficult happens that there are those who've been through so much worse, or when something wonderful happens that if not for a twist of fate, I could be in someone else's shoes, suffering some misfortune, while others are experiencing joy. I think these thoughts help me remain empathetic to the world, and remembering that I didn't "earn" all the goodness I have...
Funnily, this landed in my inbox on the morning of my birthday. Practicing gratitude can be hard, but your writing lifted my spirits a bit this morning, despite the heavy topics. Thanks for sharing what might still be some painful memories.
In any case, I hope you both enjoy PV. Have you ever thought about hosting a meetup at some point? I feel like I'm not the only LGBT+ reader of your newsletter who regularly travels, and where you are is probably fairly accessible to that part of your readership.
My dear friend Claire lost her beloved children, Cori and Blake in the 261 crash. This afternoon we gather via zoom to light 88 candles and say the names of all the lives lost. I Remain heartbroken. 💔
I just saw your write up about the Alaska Airline crash. I’m so thankful you weren’t working on that flight. I knew Craig and my sweet friend Paul pulanco who both died on that flight. I loved them a lot and think about them all the time. Such beautiful people they were- thank you for mentioning them. Xo
It's especially heartbreaking when a couple is lost at the same time, or nearly the same time. Devastating. And also I'm wondering about Allison's daughter and losing her mother, hoping she had good memories to comfort her over the years. It's hard to make sense of these losses. I'm glad you and Brent are here to remember them but also to celebrate one another and share your life adventures with all of us. Thank you for the good you do in the world.
You have such a gift for painting the beauty, ugliness, and the mundane of the world with your words. I wish you knew how often I cry when I read you. Thank you both for sharing yourselves and your experiences with us. You make the world a better place.
Your post resonated a lot with me. My mother was a flight attendant with TWA for more than 42 years. She normally flew to Rome during the summer but instead was en route to Athens the night Flight 800 went down. We had lost several friends that day, including one who was traveling as a non rev. This post was a lovely tribute and way to remember them.
So sad Michael. It really is a weird experience when fate intervenes, and we examine it. Sorry for the loss of your friends. They sounded like great fun people.
Michael, your essay moved me deeply.
Your reflections on life, loss, and the moments we are given resonated with my own experiences in profound ways. My father and brother, both lost to car accidents decades apart, are always in my thoughts—especially in January and February, the months that took them. The life I’ve lived, and the lives they didn’t, echo in every choice I make.
Your words honor Allison, Craig, and Paul with such tenderness.
The way you shared their lives, their quirks, and the paths they never had the chance to continue made me feel like I knew them too. I could see the laughter, feel the joy of their moments in Puerto Vallarta, and imagine the depth of connection they shared.
It’s a strange and bittersweet thing—to live with gratitude for the life we have while carrying the weight of those who didn’t get the same chance.
The sunsets we see, the meals we share, and the discoveries we make are marked by absence but also by the beauty of memory and love. Thank you for sharing this story; it’s a reminder of the fragility and wonder of being here, even in the midst of so much loss.
Thank you so much, Jay. And thanks for sharing your own experiences. I'm so sorry you lost your father and brother. Life is just so...hard sometimes.
Michael, thank you for the acknowledgment. Life simply is. Whether it feels hard or soft, strenuous or easy, I’ve learned that much of this depends on how I relate to what is happening. The bird makes a sound. The bird sings beautifully. The bird scolds loudly. Same event. It is beyond our control. What remains within our control is how we react, the stories we choose to tell ourselves, and the shared humanity we embrace—or don’t.
I deeply relate to that sense of relief and gratitude mixed with sadness at the loss of the lives of your friends and their loved ones. I've found myself often reflecting when something difficult happens that there are those who've been through so much worse, or when something wonderful happens that if not for a twist of fate, I could be in someone else's shoes, suffering some misfortune, while others are experiencing joy. I think these thoughts help me remain empathetic to the world, and remembering that I didn't "earn" all the goodness I have...
We're grateful it wasn't you, Michael, though sad for your friends who died.
Thank you, DR.
Funnily, this landed in my inbox on the morning of my birthday. Practicing gratitude can be hard, but your writing lifted my spirits a bit this morning, despite the heavy topics. Thanks for sharing what might still be some painful memories.
In any case, I hope you both enjoy PV. Have you ever thought about hosting a meetup at some point? I feel like I'm not the only LGBT+ reader of your newsletter who regularly travels, and where you are is probably fairly accessible to that part of your readership.
First off, Happy Birthday! Nice thinking of something good today.
As for a meetup, it has been suggested several times, and is something I guess we should do. But it feels so self-aggrandizing! LOLl
My dear friend Claire lost her beloved children, Cori and Blake in the 261 crash. This afternoon we gather via zoom to light 88 candles and say the names of all the lives lost. I Remain heartbroken. 💔
I am so so sorry for your friend. I know life "goes on" but I don't know how a person could ever get past that sort of loss.
I just saw your write up about the Alaska Airline crash. I’m so thankful you weren’t working on that flight. I knew Craig and my sweet friend Paul pulanco who both died on that flight. I loved them a lot and think about them all the time. Such beautiful people they were- thank you for mentioning them. Xo
It's just so cruel, isn't it? I'm glad you got to know them -- and they you.
beautiful and moving reflections, Michael, thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Skylar. And thanks for reading.
It's especially heartbreaking when a couple is lost at the same time, or nearly the same time. Devastating. And also I'm wondering about Allison's daughter and losing her mother, hoping she had good memories to comfort her over the years. It's hard to make sense of these losses. I'm glad you and Brent are here to remember them but also to celebrate one another and share your life adventures with all of us. Thank you for the good you do in the world.
Thank you very much, Sally. 🙏🏻❤️
I am so moved by these reflections, Michael. 💔
Thank you very much, Maddie.
You have such a gift for painting the beauty, ugliness, and the mundane of the world with your words. I wish you knew how often I cry when I read you. Thank you both for sharing yourselves and your experiences with us. You make the world a better place.
Wow, thank you so much, Patti. You just made my whole week.
I have always disliked the expression “there but for god go I.” Your remembrance is a far more perfect way to express empathy, grief and gratitude.
Thank you very much, Cindy.
Ah, man… What a beautiful piece. 💔
Thank you, Mike.
What a beautifully written tribute to both your friends and your current love!
Thank you very much.
💜
Your post resonated a lot with me. My mother was a flight attendant with TWA for more than 42 years. She normally flew to Rome during the summer but instead was en route to Athens the night Flight 800 went down. We had lost several friends that day, including one who was traveling as a non rev. This post was a lovely tribute and way to remember them.
Thank you, Ashley, and I remember TWA 800. Another tragic loss of life.
So sad Michael. It really is a weird experience when fate intervenes, and we examine it. Sorry for the loss of your friends. They sounded like great fun people.
Thank you, Jeanine.