When His Jacket Was Lost

Buffalo, New York - 2002

Tuesday, January 19, 2021

I only managed to scan a few dozen slides today so I will use this space - very briefly - to share a painful story. I am trying to follow the advice of the President. I was moved by the memorial to the 400,000 people who died of covid-19. I cried, actually. Then I started to feel angry so I repeated (in my head), Biden’s words about how one has to remember in order to heal. The story is one of the loss of an object, a jacket but it was Lenny’s jacket. My brother, Alex (depicted) had inherited it after his passing and I felt that it suited him. I am sure that it made him feel closer to Lenny. It was black leather with beads. It was a tough jacket. Straight up. It was power.

Long story very very short. On one trip to Germany via Amsterdam, Alex’s suitcase (containing Lenny’s jacket) was “lost.” We held out hope, for a few days, that it would turn up but it never did. We filed a claim. Nothing.

We felt such a heavy loss. The anger resurfaced. Feelings of vulnerability and helplessness. It had been snatched from us and we couldn’t even point a finger. It hurt so bad. It felt so personal somehow.

When I look at the photo of Alex in the jacket with his arm around me, I try to tell myself that it’s okay. But I just get angry all over again.