Photo by Felipe Machado

The Mark of a Life Well Lived

It’s hard to begin a piece of writing about someone I know very little about, especially someone who was such an instrumental, interwoven part of the lives of people I do know a whole lot about. We had a friend pass away this week. There was an accident, and all of a sudden a very bright spark in the lives of many of my friends was blown out, and now it’s as if the embers are still clinging to the wick, vying for the chance to burn once again.

I’ve loved experiencing the photos, videos, wall posts and reminders of our friend that are resurfacing now on social media. Each one has made me laugh, smile, cry… mostly all three of those things, sometimes not in that order. I find myself very affected despite not knowing him very well. Those who did share the stories of his friendship, his mind, his passion. They remind us all of who he was, who he was becoming. He held such a special place in the hearts of so many people who I hold in mine – and because of that, my heart hurts this week.

It’s been an absolute privilege getting to see my old friends come together to support one another in a time that is more than difficult for some. “I’m available,” “please call me,” and “I will be here” permeate their messages. Other words keep showing up, too: remarkable, immeasurable, amazing.  These are the words used to remember a friend. These are the ways we share sorrow and support.

This week, my problems seem less like problems. This week, I cherish the things that might exasperate me on another day. Those extra five minutes in bed that make me five minutes late to work – they’re minutes spent laughing with my partner, absorbing each good thing the other shares simply by being together, awake, in a moment.

I’m more than sure that one day the spark of Dave will dance to life again, sprung up from the embers our friends have been blowing on, refusing to let burn out completely. It almost feels like he was too big for this world, too smart, too hungry, just everything a person could be and then some – like this life could not contain him. The way Dave lived left such a beautiful mark on my friends. Certainly, the mark of a life well lived.

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