Thursday, August 16, 2007


I was going to say that I've left this recent bout of seriousness and self-reflection behind me, but it lingers still.

I didn't get home til 9 tonight from work . . . LONG day. Sitting on the floor of my office tonight stuffing folders for a presentation, I listened to an old Guster CD (Parachute) that I'd found at the bottom of my CD collection in my car this morning. It's so incredible how putting in this CD instantly floods me with memories of my friend Dave, taken from us far, far too soon. An inexplicable feeling comes over me. What an inspiring friend and human being. He was truly Alive, you know, the kind of person bursting with energy, gusto, and determination in a way that many of us can only wish we were. I was and still am humbled by him and all that he shared and impressed upon me through our friendship as teenagers.

I was just talking to my friend at work the other day about how certain things like smells and sounds can overwhelm us immediately with detailed memories and connections to the past. And here it was, proving true yet again today. I found myself remembering how just a week before the accident, we'd gone to SuperFresh one weeknight, scouted out all the products with expiration dates past due, and piled them into our cart, knowing that per their policy, the store would have to give them to us for free. We were so excited, laughing and goofing off, driving all our loot home and then proudly dumping it all out on my kitchen table. We sat there feasting on a various assortment of yummy (and slightly stale) baked goods, feeling pretty happy with ourselves. Another exciting and perfect night with a good friend. That was the last time I saw him and the last memory I have of him. I only wish I could have held onto it longer.

Sadly, before today I hadn't thought about Dave in a long time, actually. It's amazing that six years have gone by . . . and yet time just keeps pushing on, forcing us to move forward and onward, even if we don't think we're ready, and on toward the crazy, beautiful, unpredictable maze that is our lives.

But listening to his favorite music today, I just wanted to stop. Stop and think of him and all that he was to us. And so I did.
And smiled, of course :)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

His parents would like you to share that memory with them.