All my life, I’ve sought out Lost Boys. The kind of kin that doesn’t come from blood but in forging bonds through maverick brotherhood; carving out space with the outliers and otherworldlies. I found something alluring twenty years ago. Hidden behind the facade of a northeast Philly twin and a through-the-looking-glass style garden, was a family of living giants, creating enchanted adventures around the kitchen table. They took in my wandering heart without a thought; it’s been me and my Lost Boys ever since.
I’m heartbroken to have lost the OG this week, our family’s Peter Pan. He gave me a seat at his table- the game table, the dinner table, the coffee-and-shoot-the-breeze table… I ambled in lost, and he never asked questions, just allowed me to grow into myself and into the family. Ed was a patient teacher, an incredible talent, a man who loved his family fiercely. Stoic, solid, consistent and he always showed up. He was one of the sharpest, most imaginative people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He encouraged me to pick my art back up and every step I’ve taken in honor of that goal has been laced with his wisdom. My work will forever be informed by his influence. He gave me my husband, imbibing all the best parts of himself into my best friend. There’s a photo from our wedding day that shows the two of them mid epic high five, and that’s always how it’s been- if we were happy, he was happy. My life would look a lot different if it weren’t for him.
It has been said that Edward Fadigan is a man that’s lived a thousand lives through books & games. We’re gutted to only have shared 60 years with him but it is a small comfort to know that his mind could take him anywhere he wanted to go. He was a pirate, a sheriff….a female, night elf hunter….animating a million adventures with his imagination.
Even in his fantasy life, he made an impact- strangers that he’s only ever played online with have sent messages telling us how much he meant to them.
The world is profoundly dimmer and a whole lot less magical without you in it, Papa Fad. May we always remember to be patient, inclusive and to share room at our tables. To remember the joy of play, creation and imagination. And to unapologetically wear our shiny sheriff badges… even into the Wawa.
Thank you for bringing us all into stranger worlds with you.
Love you, Pop. Rest Easy.