Happy Thanksgiving, David Spancer
Be irreverent, grateful, and fearless like there's no tomorrow
I spontaneously wrote this post in bed on Thanksgiving morning 2022 while I was away from my kids and about to spend a raucous and fantastic Thanksgiving with my cousin and her boyfriend. I remembered this post—and David—the other day. With Thanksgiving upon us again, I decided to share it as an annual tradition in honor of him. This post is free for everyone. Happy (?) Thanksgiving x
Eleven years ago someone I know died. He was a friend but not a close friend. We knew each other in college. We had stayed in touch, somewhat randomly. He came to my wedding. I still have the vintage card he gave us. I still have his handwriting. He died of colon cancer in his early forties. It still surprises me when I remember he is gone. I quoted him in one of my books, I can’t even remember which one now:
I love you all. You're amazing. Except for the few of you who suck, but even you have your endearing qualities.
I’m thinking of him this morning because Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday. You didn't need to be a close friend to know this, because everyone who knew him at all knew this.
I’m remembering David today because of Thanksgiving, sure, but thinking of him also reminded me of how irreverent and bold he was. How he laughed in the face of literally everything, including death. Fearless. And he created a community of people around him who were just as creative, bold, funny, and fearless as he was. Nothing was off the table.
When he was diagnosed with cancer his wife Apryl started a Facebook group. I’m not sure who titled it originally but it was called David Spancer's Got Cancer. A sample post from that same group, from Apryl:
“A few days ago David and I were sitting in his office. Our cat Pico was walking by in the hallway. I tried to get her attention by clicking my tongue at her. David sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘God, I won't miss that when I'm dead.’”
He went on to write a list of things he wouldn’t miss when he was dead, it was later read at his memorial. Yes, Nora Ephron wrote one, too. But after David. I don’t want to accuse The Great Nora Ephron of “borrowing” “an” “idea” but, etc. and so on.
Live-streaming a memorial service seems almost standard now, between the way technology has advanced followed by the way everything was pushed virtual during the pandemic. But it was extraordinary 11 years ago to be sitting at my desk in Vermont, with a glass of wine, sobbing and laughing, while I watched his massive memorial unfold 3000 miles away. Also, I doubt many (if any) families would be so true to their dearly departed as his family was when they dubbed his memorial service A GRIEFTACULAR SORROWBRATION!
This might seem like an odd post for Thanksgiving, but the point is, that there is more than one way to approach anything in life, no matter how entrenched, no matter how inevitable, no matter how hard—death, divorce, and, yeah, even Thanksgiving.
There are events and memories that are hard to let go of. There are things to fear, always, if you dwell on them long enough. But change is truly the only constant, the only thing you can always count on, even if you are really fucking sick of it.
I’m away from my kids on Thanksgiving, for the first time since they were born. This was a trip I planned months ago, and it came from a happy place of “why the hell not?!” My kids are not happy that I made this plan but, still, I have no regrets. It is certainly different than the 18 Thanksgivings that came before it. I could choose to dwell on those years, those Thanksgivings, and the pull of that has certainly been tempting. But I’m not going to. Because I remembered David. Why waste time?
In honor of my friend and a friend to many, I invite you to be irreverent about your life. I am saying this as much to myself right now as I am to you. Be irreverent about everything that isn’t the way it used to be. About the unfairness and silliness of life, its inherent frustrations and sadnesses and accidental comedy. Even about facing your own mortality. And in the face of it all, choosing to bravely love the people who are there for you right now, because this is life and who knows, who knows, who knows.
Today, and long after today, I will be thinking of David often again. In remembering him this morning, I realized he is the example I want to keep in my head and my heart as I navigate new twists and turns. Should WWDSD be my next tattoo? PERHAPS.
I found this email from him from 2000, sent on Thanksgiving:
"Today's my favorite holiday. Whatever its origins may be, Thanksgiving has evolved into a free-for-the-interpreting non-secular non-partisan anti-cynical pro-inclusion good nice happy simple day fulla the best food, the warmest feelings, and three free bonus days, all for the intent purpose of appreciating whatever you've got and saying, ‘thanks.’
So, ‘thanks.’
Life's taken all sorts of twists and turns, and if someone asked me a year ago what mine would be like in twelve months, I would've gotten most of it wrong. My favorite thing, for which I am most thankful today, is all y'all, my new, growing, strengthening, brilliant, challenging, accepting, encouraging, hilarious, incredible group of friends. You really make adulthood a wonderful place to be.
I love you all.
Happy Thanksgiving"
After he died, the name of that Facebook group was changed from David Spancer’s Got Cancer to simply his name, his birth date and the date of his death. One of the first comments was, “Well that doesn’t even rhyme” and it was changed back. I laugh every time I think about it, including this morning.
There is so much to be thankful for, there are so many people to be thankful for, even in the years that are the most volatile. Perhaps, especially then.
I love you all.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Another timely one from last year, pulled back from the archives and made free for all readers again. Just trust me on this one:
You can find my books here. You can find more of my writing here. You can’t find my brand work right now, my site is still down :( but it’ll relaunch in January! You can theoretically find me on Instagram although, related to the above, I’m taking a break through the holidays.
Oh, that email. It just sums up everything I want from my communities, everything I want to GIVE to my people, my families of choice.
Thank you so much for sharing your friend with us.
I am realizing right now that I read this before my mom passed, and it influenced a lot of how I handled her memorial service and her obituary. I asked people to wear orange because it was her favorite color, and they did! I put jokes in her obit, and refused to provide a particular org to make donations to. Your friend continues to influence in the best way.