“Dude, look at that terrace!” He pretty much said that every time we passed by an apartment with a terrace or a roof. At one point, he wanted to go buy a new place in the city, and all the floor plans included some sort of deck or roof access. So when Brian and I were looking at places, I wasn’t jazzed about 321 until I walked out on the deck and saw the sign: “Private Roof for Apartment 9 ONLY”
SOLD.
DP wasn’t doing so well: He had attempted to kill himself about 14 days earlier and had gotten out of the hospital. I was dragging him begrudgingly with me everywhere. I remember when we went to go look at the place, I was like, “Look dude! Look at this deck.” (At this point both Brian and I agreed that we were gonna have DP move in with us if need be and if he did not improve.) He just glazed over it.
We went over to Big Nick’s for lunch, and DP was moping behind. I would walk back every couple blocks and just kick it with him, coaxing him forward to walk with the group. We sat, ate, and planned out the deck layout. We began to think up all the ways we could lay it out.
When DP went in the last time, I was explaining to him the ideas and how cool it would be for us to spend the summer on the roof. We could finally have our own place to chill out.
He never saw the roof deck.
I gotta be honest, I poured my heart and soul into that deck as did Jenny, Tom, Brian, and Chels. I think we all did it for David and went that extra mile. Every time I walk out on it, I can hear his voice. “Dude, look at that roof”…
It’s your roof, DP, and everybody who loved you has sat on it and in some way is there with you.
