Mikey's memorial service was held last night. Approximately 150 people attended and were crammed inside the shop like sardines.
Candles were distributed to everyone, but mine remained dark. It's sitting on my kitchen counter with a still-fresh wick. Perhaps I will light it sometime this week, in private, as I didn't want to display my emotions at this event.
I knew a few people there, but for the most part the mourners were fellow musicians. Other than those fifteen or so of my acquaintance, the remainder of the crowd were strangers to me. I felt very odd being there, as if I was encroaching on their territory (similar to how I'd feel attending one of Mikey's shows).
Something I noticed at the hospital last weekend carried over to the service last night. For reasons I'm still trying to comprehend, the general conversations at the memorial were one-upmanships of how important each person felt they were in Mikey's world. In speaking to one another about him, there was a curious "I was far more important in his life than YOU were" tone to it all. No one listened to others' reminicses-- they just wanted to be at the top of the heap.
That silly game irritated me very much; in fact, I felt very irritable throughout the memorial.
I couldn't leave soon enough.