Dear Enrique,

Thank you for sharing what a lot of us are feeling. Even now, months later, I would catch a photo of Anthony Bordain, and feel like someone punched me in the lungs.

His little girl was the first person I thought of when I found out about his suicide. I didn’t know him either, just “fell in love” with him the first time I saw him on his Food Network show, and later as I read his books, only reinforced how awesome he was.

It is incomprehensible to me as well. The only reason I would consider suicide is if I knew beyond doubt I had dementia. Like Robin Williams.

But unlike you, I actually AM angry at Anthony Burdain. Not all the time. Not even most of the time. But once in a while I am nearly overcome by anger at a man I didn’t know personally.

He wasn’t a private person since he was a public personality, in a way, he belonged to all of us. So we are mourning a good man when we need good men, in this lousy world full of morally corrupt men of shitty character. It’s what hurts so much. A good man is dead while so many bad men live on.

My problem is that I hold grudges.

Writer and storyteller, immigrant, wife, mom, knitter, collector of jokes, lover of cheap, sweet wine.