Two Weeks Without Pablo

We've talked a lot about Pablo's fun-centered spirit. I found this June 12 photo on my Blackberry. It epitomizes millions of fun (and sinister) Pablo moments. We were leaving the house, and I was looking everywhere for him. After I made a couple rounds of our house, Pablo called out to me and I found him sitting with Beans in her kennel. The somewhat 'blah' look on his face is saying, 'Papa, not another photo?!'

Last Saturday, with a house full of loving family and friends, 1:30 p.m. passed us by. I don't even recall whether Jo Ann and I spoke about this. I remember feeling disappointed that I hadn't looked at the clock at this sacred time, that I hadn't reminded us to quiet our minds at this sacred time. Beating myself up isn't productive. I let it go. My goal was to honor the two week anniversary today. And here I am.

Two weeks ago at the exact time of this post, Pablo took his final breath. Part me is still there, in our bed, holding Pablo with Jo Ann and Grady, trying to comprehend it all. I am still asking and asking many questions, principally 'Where is Pablo? Where did he go?' Our family philosophy answers these questions: we believe that our boy has gone back to nature, back to the universe, back to Heaven. That is a trio of beliefs. And we believe each of them, wholly and completely. We do not find it important to have only one belief. It does us no good. Still, with our trio of beliefs burning in my heart, I am remain faced with the question: where is Pablo? It kept me up all night last night. It brought up a constant flow of tears that mixed with the sweat on my face as I ascended to Mt Wilson Observatory this morning. I am beginning to think I will never know. Not until I am with him. And that's OK.

We are starting to read a few books on grieving the loss of a child. This is a specific island in the archipelago of grief. Losing a child after a months-long fight with cancer is just one beach on that island. Losing a child in an accident, for instance, is very different beach. Jo Ann, Grady and I are not there. One of these books discusses this question of 'Where did my child go?' Stunning how our minds go straight to the place where other people's minds have gone. Makes where we are just a little less lonely and empty.

A Ray Of Pablove From North Carolina To Honduras

When we started the Pablog at the beginning of Pablo's treatment in May 2008, many people sent us stories about how word of Pablo's plight reached across the city of Los Angeles. We were amazed to hear this, and still are. As the months wore on, Pablo's story reached across the U.S. and world, through our family in Chicago, New Orleans, Milwaukee and friends in London, Sydney, Paris and beyond. We were amazed when this started taking root, and still are. Lately, the Pablove light has spread far beyond our circle of friends and their friends and their friends' friends. And this has us utterly speechless.

In the past 13 months, many 'you're never gonna believe who was talking about Pablo' stories and anecdotes have found their way back to us. The one below sort of epitomizes all of them, and we wanted to share it with you. This story is from our friend music video / TV / film director Liz Friedlander.

Check it out:

Just wanted to drop you a note to recount something that happened today that I thought you might be interested in. I am currently shooting in North Carolina. I walked into the office today and overheard the transportation coordinator talking to his brother in HONDURAS about Pablove. he didn't know that i have been following your blog. He didn't know Pablo, or you or Jo Ann. He's not tied to anyone in LA.

He's a cycling fan. He saw Lance's blog. He saw the chalkbot this morning & he starting searching the Internet. For Pablo+Grady & Jo Ann, etc...based on Lance's cycling blog entry. He somehow found your blog & had started reading it in its entirety. He then got the whole office to look at it & was phoning his brother in Honduras to do the same.

Pablove is spreading. I mean, it's really taking on a life of its own & affecting so many of us. Please keep it coming - in a world where it is so easy to get isolated & alienated from one another, it's awakened a compassion for humanity in all of us. Reminded us that we don't - can't - live in a vacuum. It's made us all care.

As I left the office this guy turned to me and asked, "Have you been looking for doves and butterflies?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "I have."

Love and peace to you & your family,

Liz

Peter Live On KCRW Today

We have gotten a constant and overwhelming response to Peter's musical tribute at Pablo's funeral last Wednesday. His song '39 Stars' is so deeply connected to our family's struggle and loss. Peter's words and his brave and raw rendition of the song—without a microphone—hit home equally for people who knew the song for years and those who heard it for the first time on Wednesday.

What most people don't know is that Peter and his band Eulogies were slated for a different sort of performance last Wednesday morning—the coveted live session on KCRW's morning show 'Morning Becomes Eclectic.' The Eulogies performance has been rescheduled for today. They will go on the air around 11:15 a.m. We ask that you tune in one your radio, or online if you're not in LA. If you can't be near a radio, or simply miss it, you can listen on tape delay at KCRW's site.

As I write this, I'm feeling like Pablo and I would have driven together today to KCRW's studio at Santa Monica College to be with Peter and the band in the studio. We enjoyed checking out these special events together. Today, I will drive to SMC myself, and be with Peter and Brie and the band. We will remember Pablo, and know, for sure, that he is in the studio with us anyway.

Pablove On The Road At Tour de France

The Pablove dedications keep on coming. The big one today came from Pablo's friends at Nike and Livestrong. They commanded the Chalkbot to emblazon Pablo's name on the road between Le Cap d'Agde and Perpignan in stage 5 of the Tour de France. Grady and I screamed with joy when Melissa Schoenke from Nike emailed me this pic a few minutes ago. We immediately rewound the Tivo and watched today's stage.

After half an hour of fast forward viewing, we found our boy's name on the road. I'd say it's unreal. But it is real. And so is our gratitude for le Chalkbot and every every everything else that everyone else has done in Pablo's honor.

Visiting Pablo

We've had a lot of inquiries from people wanting to visit Pablo at Forest Lawn. We love this.

Hrishi has made it easy for you to walk out your front door and head to Pablo's new home. In fact, Hrishi has somehow Google Mapped Pablo's precise location at Forest Lawn.

To map out your trip, all you have to do is click here, and then:

• click 'get directions'

• fill in address of your starting point

• click 'search maps'

• you're set — print or email directions to your phone

Once you get to Forest Lawn, you can ask the security guard for a map or verbal directions to Pablo's grave:

Lincoln Terrace
Section 5082
Space 4a

Pablo's grave marker is not in place yet. You will know it's Pablo because he is between a young tree, and the terrace wall. We call that the Geronimo! wall.

There are three vases built into the ground, two over Pablo, and one on our other family spot. We welcome and encourage you to bring flowers. If your flowers will crowd one of the vases, no problem. We go there every day, and we are happy to fix things up when we get there. We'd prefer that you don't dispose of any flowers, even if they are old. It is our pleasure and our duty to keep Pablo's grave tidy and beautiful. We thank you in advance for bringing beautiful flowers to our dear boy. Bring flowers that mean something to you, your kids, your family, or a departed loved one. Feel free to leave a little card or note. Or not. It's up to you.

If you bring flowers, have your florist cut the stems to eight inches. This is the perfect length, so the flowers will rest at the top of the vase and won't flop around in the wind. It's really windy up there!

Also, feel free to hang out, talk to Pablo, pray, meditate, read a book, have lunch, whatever. If you've never been to a grave and all this stuff sounds out there to you, just go and do it your way. There is no right way or wrong way. Going is the significant thing.

One last thing: if you do go, bring a blanket, or something to sit on to keep the moisture off your bum. And the ever-growing piles of deer poo who seem to be hanging around their new charge Pablo on a nightly basis. We only know this from the poo pellets they leave behind all round his grave. You'll see them when you go up there. It all makes sense. Pablo, the deer, the white dove that landed 10 yards from us the other day and circled around us and landed again in the same spot... Just as Pablo did every day of his physical life, where we met and fell in love with him, he is now making friends with the beings who populate his new world, the world of nature.

We hope to see you there.

Sending Up A Spiritual Flare

A work of art, in progress: the Pablove mural on the Sunset Boulevard wall of Dangerbird HQ. Peter surprised the hell out of us with this massive memorial to Pablo. DB designer Rory Wilson created it; he also designed the Pablove logo, which Pablo loved.

We have one out of town guest left in our house—Paul Massa, the mayor of New Orleans. Actually, he's staying next door at James + Vanessa's house, but he only sleeps there. J + V gave us their house the day Pablo passed, and went to stay at a friend's house. They wanted us to have more room for friends and family to stay. An act of selflessness in the hour of our greatest need. Amazing how big their hearts are. Amazing how big the hearts of so so so many countless friends are.

Tomorrow morning, Paul leaves. I am freaking out. I don't want anyone to leave. Pablo left. Our little boy Pablo left 10 days ago. Our little boy Pablo left on June 27. June was last month. June is not this month. That is a change, a shift, a new thing since he left. This is enough change in our lives. I want everything to slow down. I want everyone to stay put. This is so so much more difficult than we ever thought it would be. The pain comes in big glassy sheets and it smashes at our feet and we can't move for fear—it always comes with fear—of shearing our feet. The emptiness is debilitating. The emptiness and the fear and the pain are like sleeping underwater. I always felt that way sleeping with Pablo at CHLA. Never able to actually sleep, I always came up for air, worried about the beeps and bings of the machines, always waking up to monitor the rise and fall of Pablo's chest. I always thought of that as sleeping underwater. And now I realize it was a prime foreshadowing of this new era.

I don't want anyone else to leave us. I know you have lives. But I want everyone to stay right where they are when it comes to the Pablog and our electronic ultramodern relationship. So there's no more change in our world. Not for a while. I promise I will keep writing. Always intended to. And I won't always be freaking out like I am now. I want to keep this going, to continue the spirit and the soul of Pablo. I have a need to communicate what's going on with Jo Ann and Grady and I. Our experience. Our journey. I will write about the positive stuff too. When it happens, when it comes, I will write it.

This plea may be without merit. You never said you were leaving. But Paul leaving means that you might leave. And if you leave, and we lose this connection and your feedback through blog comments and emails and text messages and Facebook messages, the pain is going to get deeper and hotter and more intense. You can see why we don't want to be in more pain, or lose our community connection. It has become a very, very strong lifeline for us. It's what community is about.

Tonight, our house is quiet. For the first time in exactly two weeks, our house is quiet. At this time two weeks ago, Pablo had played all afternoon, and was asleep in our bed, in his usual place between us. At this time two weeks ago, we thought Pablo would live forever. We never spoke about it, but I know that Jo Ann and I put a huge emphasis on Pablo making it to his sixth birthday. That was two days before two weeks ago today. Two days after he was running and running and running in the park with his friends celebrating his birthday, he was at the beginning of the end of his life. There was no run-up, no warning. We were in the midst of life. Pablo coughed. And then....

Elliott Smith wrote a song called 'Everything Means Nothing To Me.' Have no capacity to remember or care what the song is about. I am only concerned with pirating the title to describe our condition in the Castelaz / Thrailkill / Gallagher family. Pablo, he meant everything to us. And he has gone away. Nothing means anything to any of us without Pablo. Our hearts are broken. Worse, our hearts are useless. We walk upstairs in the morning and fling ourselves into the eighth, ninth, tenth day since Pablo's passing, and we have no idea why. Why are we here? What are we flinging toward? Where is our little boy and his wondrous symphony of noises and words and gestures and aims and desires? Where? In a flash he was gone. I keep thinking of things I want to say to him, one last time. I keep wanting to hold his hand, one last time. I keep wanting to feel him in my arms, too tired to walk, one last time. We all feel this way. Can you blame us?

Grady noted that just walking in the front door, our house is completely different. He noted that he missed knowing that Pablo would be right inside the door waiting to see who was coming in. Or right in the TV room, 'watching something,' as he liked to say, almost as an apology for loving TV. Or chasing up his big brother to, as he always stated in the simplest, basest term, 'play.' I can tell you, Pablo didn't care what Grady might play with him. He just wanted to play with him.

And I can tell you, we miss Pablo and we are in the glassy, frozen, vacuous, immense marsh of grief. I could never accurately or completely describe it to you. This is just me shooting off a spiritual flare.

Pablove In Chicago + In The Air

Livia, Milo, Cassiel and Desi in front of the giant wood doors of St Michael's Church

Cassiel and Desi lighting candles for their friend Pablo

Seven candles lit in memory of Pablo

Livia and Cassiel with their graffiti memorial to Pablo at Gino's East pizza in the Chicago Loop.

Two of Pablo's closest friends, Cassiel and Desi, were in Chicago with their families last week. While Pablo's Memorial and Funeral were happening two time zones away, The Blum and Reed families honored and remembered Pablo in the Windy City. They wanted to light memorial candles for Pablo. The church they ended up walking into was St Michael's, in the Lincoln Park neighborhood. Incredibly, St Michael's is the place where Pablo's Uncle Scott taught Sunday School many years ago. Of all the hundreds and hundreds of churches in Chicago, Pablo's friends made their way to the one with the most significance to his family. To put a finer point on the beauty of this: St Michael's is on a side street. Not an easy place to find.

Cassiel and Desi and their siblings Livia and Milo honored the loss of their friend Pablo with a simple and time honored ritual: lighting candles. These candles signify the fun they had with P. The off-the-scale screaming and laughing and heavy-breathed panting they had with P on countless days. The not stopping playing even after the eight parental command to slow down. The snapshot of childhood that they can always look back on, to remember Pablo, who, as they grow up, as their bodies change, as their physical appearance develops and their voices finally drop as low as Pablo's, will be forever young. The graffiti memorial they wrote on the wall at Gino's East was perfect.

The spiritual energy and cosmic power at hand right now is real. These things don't just happen.

P loved Chicago, the home of his cousin Isabella and Aunt Susan. The last time we were there was for Lollapalooza 2007. I pulled Pablo and Isabella through Millennium and Grant parks in a bike trailer. Our first stop that day was Intelligentsia Coffee. With fuel in our bodies, we went out for some fun. We saw Lance Armstrong riding through the park. We didn't know him then, but Pablo's papa nearly had a heart attack seeing his cycling idol while pulling a kiddie trailer.

Later that day, we went to the festival to see Silversun Pickups play. We stood in the wings of the stage, looking into the eyes of the audience looking at the band. I loved sharing that view with Pablo. After the show, we went into the band's tour bus. Many people have emailed us recently recounting that they met Pablo for the first (and some only) time in that bus. It's those seemingly little moments that make a huge mark, yknow?

I want to leave you with one more story. This one's about butterflies.

Sunday morning, I rode with my dear friend Greg Geisler. We rode up San Gabriel Canyon, east of Pasadena. This is a steep, stunningly beautiful mountain pass that's also known as Highway 39. As we turned our cranks over and over, I settled into my rhythm. The sun beat down on me, I thought of Pablo, I talked out loud to Pablo, I followed my breath and knew he was with me. The whole way up the mountain, all kinds of butterflies flitted around me, hitting my hands, my chest, my shoulders. Over half of them were Monarchs, the type of butterfly Paul Massa released en masse at Pablo's grave. At the time I felt the significance of these butterflies. They will forever remind us of Pablo.

When Greg and I regrouped at the bottom the mountain, I mentioned the butterflies.

'I didn't see any butterflies,' he said.

Across Los Angeles, Ben Berry from our Dangerbird family took a hike up Runyon Canyon. He sent us an email after his hike with these words: 'Walked Runyon this morning and had butterflies flying with me all the way around.'

The spiritual energy and cosmic power at hand right now is real. These things don't just happen.

Livestrong: It's About Pablo

Pablo and I are in this Livestrong / Nike 'It's About You' TV commercial. This is a trailer for the larger campaign. Everyone you see in this commercial has their own 30 second spot, where they describe their struggle with cancer in their own words. This trailer is running now on TV. There are actually two Pablo spots—after Pablo's death, Lance asked Nike to create a tribute to Pablo. Not sure which will run, or if both will run. Will let you know.



We had so much fun filming this. Pablo and Polly ran all over the Montalban Theater lobby playing while I sat in a small, hot room filming. Pablo came in at the end and did his thing. He was shy in front of the cameras and under the hot lights. But, of course, he was excited and fascinated with it all as well. We filmed the same day we met Lance in the CHLA 4th floor play room—Saturday March 7.

It's an honor for Pablo and I to represent our family in this way. When we filmed our 'It's About You' session, Pablo was rocking. We were just a few weeks away from the end of his long chemo course. We had no idea his cancer would recur on treatment, or that he would be gone just three-and-a-half months from the day of this filming. Of course we didn't. Participating in this campaign is and was congruous with our family's passion for life. We did everything we could to have fun, to have experiences, to reprezent our family in the fight against cancer. This was and is part of that.

Even if Pablo were snuggled up beside me in bed as I write this, as he was 10 days ago at this time, our 'It's About You' commercial will help propel the Pablove message to people all over the world. It would have been just as impactful if Pablo were still with us. The Pablove message is to fight childhood cancer with love. This means we will carry Pablo's energetic legacy to help childhood cancer treatment and research and support the quality of life of kids in treatment—play rooms, books, games, music, activities.

When the other two commercials are released, we will post them here.

Day One, Again

Pablo, through the eyes of Shepard Fairey.

That's our boy—his eyes, his smile, his super wide rays of light shooting out in all directions. Shepard is a dad, and hung with Pablo many times. He knows Pablo's rays were always there in real life. Everywhere Pablo went, a glare of light announced his arrival and in his wake a streak of lighting marked his trail....

Thank you Shepard and Amanda.

Jo Ann and I slept last night. Grady's still asleep. We all went to bed way too late. Jo Ann and I didn't talk about it, but I am sure we did not want to end the day we buried our precious little child. I am sure we didn't want to end the talk and laughter and reminiscing and smiles and, of course, the tears that continue to cleanse our hearts and our souls. I am sure of all that. So sure I don't even have to ask my wife. I just know it—I'm her husband.

I ask that you give me a few days—or as long as it takes—before I reflect on Memorial and Funeral. We are at yet another Day One. Today is the first day after we buried Pablo's physical body in the ground at Forest Lawn. He is now fully and completely at rest. Now we will begin our journey of looking for Pablo's spirit and energy in our lives, in each other, in the world. It's not hard. He cast a wide net, my little Scrapper.

I want to write about the past two days, and I will. But today it's too hard. I can't touch it yet. It's too hot. The experience was immense for all three of us, and for our family, inner circle of friends, and of course, everyone. We are lucky to witness each other's love the way we did on Tuesday and Wednesday. It's the best way to connect with Pablo. It's the best way to communicate with Pablo. The ray of light we are sending up to him is higher than the sky. That little boy is smiling. Trust me. I know—I'm his Papa.

There are too many stories and experiences to tell you. My mind is calm. But my heart races. I want to share everything with everyone. Right now. So many people's hearts are turned toward Pablo right now—I don't want to miss the moment. But the moment's gonna have to wait for us. I am aware that Lance Armstrong's video blog dedication to Pablo and his and Tweets about Pablo, and Shepard Fairey's illustration and the website dedication he and his wife Amanda wrote for Pablo, have brought the eyes and hearts of tens of thousands of people who never knew Pablo. I want to tell you all about the amazing, heart-crushing, soul-expanding experience we've had over the past 13 months. I just realized that I don't have to do anything for the newcomers. It's all documented here on the Pablog. All you have to do is page back, and you can read our true-to-life story of LOVE + HOPE + FUN + PASSION...and in the end: HEARTBREAK.

¶ This morning, Dorrie and I were sitting at the dining room table. I was eating breakfast. We were talking about the fun her kids Isaac and Nadya had with Pablo in the last two weeks of his life. Pablo and Nadya excitedly shared an order of pancakes a couple weeks ago at Mani's Cafe on Fairfax.

As we were talking, a dove landed on the deck railing outside. I pointed it out to Dorrie. Then another one flew over and landed. I screamed for Jo Ann. She told us the doves started coming around when Pablo's condition worsened last week, and that they are now building a nest in the 50 foot tree that lives two inches from the back of our house.

Let me stop here and tell you I am not embellishing this story. I am not making this up. It happened just like that.

About 20 minutes later, my brother Dean and his girlfriend Caroline sat down at the table. Dean and I looked up and saw two Monarch butterflies flutter up between the 50 foot tree and the deck railing. Our dear friend Paul Massa—the 'mayor' of New Orleans—released a hundred Monarchs yesterday at Pablo's graveside.

Let me stop again and tell you I am not embellishing this story. I am not making this up. It happened just like that.

Pablo is everywhere.

We still have a house full of friends and family, with more people streaming in every 10 minutes. Let me leave you, for now, with one last story, from the Moffett family. Harry Moffett is Pablo's best friend. Those of you who attended Pablo's memorial Tuesday night know Harry's dad, Don, cos he was our emcee. Harry's mom Kristal sent us this story last night:

Don and I wanted to take the kids back up to Pablo's grave and sit with him for a while and take it all in. It was so beautiful and peaceful, I know you guys know that already, that's why you picked it. We where all quiet and just being there and then this very strong smell of catholic incense came...but really strong. Don and I and the kids smelled it right away and all of a sudden. We looked around to see where it was coming from and then a white dove came shooting through us, over P's grave and up to the wall with Lincoln. As soon as that bird was at the wall the smell of the incense was gone. We were all blown away and when we got home Harry was asleep. When he woke up he told me he liked that Pablo had turned himself into a bird and that when he dies I need to watch for squirrels!!!!!!!!!!!!

Funeral For Real

Today we are living a first: Jo Ann and I have never woken up on the morning of our son's funeral. Grady has never woken up on the morning of his brother's funeral. But here we are. Pablo's funeral starts in five hours. This is really happening. Today is Pablo's funeral for real.

We are ready to be in a room again with our little boy. OH, WE CAN'T WAIT TO SEE PABLO! We are ready to honor Pablo. To celebrate Pablo. To share Pablo—with ourselves, with you—one final time as we begin to really let go of him. To dignify Pablo's physical body with a contemplative and soul-searching service that will end with his burial. This is the final step in the physical human experience. This is how we dignify the passing of a soul, and give it our blessing to move on fully and completely, back to God, back to Nature, back to the Universe.

Last night's Pablo Memorial shook our souls. The hundreds of friends and family we embraced last night confirmed that the soul shaking was felt throughout the room. We thank you for bringing your heavy hearts, your confusion, your anger, your laughter, your tears, your wonder, and most of all, your MEMORIES OF PABLO! Even if you didn't get a chance to speak your Pablo memories on stage, or to us, we received through our hearts. Trust that we did.

And, remember what I requested last night: When you see us out and about in the coming days, months, years, PRESENT PABLO! We need your P LOVE! This will keep Pablo's spirit and his life's message alive and with us forever.

We'll see you in a few hours at Forest Lawn.

In love,

Jeff, Jo Ann and Grady