Together we can move mountains.
I debated long and hard about writing this blog. It’s a little out of my norm and comfort zone. I usually shy away from things that affect my heart so much, because humor is my defense mechanism and I have a finely tuned defense mechanism. I do my best to find the humor in life because if you don’t, life will kick your ass so bad you won’t know which way is up sometimes. And every now and then, even though I do my best to giggle through life, I feel as though I’ve just been kicked in the gut. I felt this way the other night when I got the news that someone very special to me had passed away.
I come from a very small town with an even smaller high school. My graduating class had less than 100 people so you can imagine that we were all pretty close to one another. When we lose one of our own, it affects all of us in one way or another. Through Facebook many of us have been able to reconnect and have chosen to keep each other close, and because of this social network we have the ability to affect one another’s lives in many different ways. As adults, we’ve stripped away our preconceived notions of jocks, punks, nerds, and wastoids, and so we’re finally able to see each other for who we really are. I have found wonderful friendships with classmates I didn’t really even talk to in high school. As the friendships have developed depth, so have the conversations. We no longer talk about boyfriends, girlfriends, and cars; we talk about husbands, wives, and kids. We share things and emotions that would have been terrifying to discuss when we were younger. But more importantly, we have come together in the tough times. When we lose one of our own, Facebook gives us the opportunity to do some really wonderful things. Things that would have been impossible before, such as writing letters to the families left behind.
Together we have written letters to the daughter of a beautiful woman who touched us all. We told her daughter how much her mother meant to us and gave her a piece of each and every one of us in those letters. A gift that she would not have received had we not been able to stay connected. Together, we brought the ashes of a friend home through letters of love, so that she may rest in peace on top of our small mountain. Together we can move mountains and hearts. Yesterday we lost yet another friend, and in usual fashion we have requested that letters be written to his children, so that they will know who their father was before he became “Daddy.” Now, it’s my turn.
David Parrett was a wonderful, beautiful, infectious person who you couldn’t help but be happy around. He had this quality about him that made you want to be near him just for the sake of being close to a person who had so much love to give. He gave so much joy and laughter to others and asked for nothing in return. His high school girlfriend was my close friend Lisa, and I was always amazed that she never once had a negative thing to say about him. I remember envying their relationship and wondering what it must feel like to have someone care so much for you.
When we held our Annual Rock Off my senior year Dave was the drummer for my lip sync band. The Rock Off was an opportunity for us kids to dress up like our favorite bands and lip sync our way into High School history. Dave endured endless rehearsals with a smile on his face. He even made his own drums out of plywood, wooden poles and overturned paint buckets. I still have the Rock Off tapes somewhere in this house and you can see Dave in the background banging away on his fake drums like it’s nobody’s business. He was an awesome fake drummer. I even loved him when I caught him cheering for our Heavy Metal competition to win. Traitor. The beauty of Dave is that he just loved us. Pure and simple, and we loved him back. People like him are rare, and if you’re lucky enough to have someone like him cross your path at some point in your life, their footprint will leave a lasting impression.
Dave, I just want you to know when I think of you, it’s with a smile in my heart. You, my friend, will live on in each and every one of us. Like I said, separated we are just a few, but together, we are a force. Until we meet again Dave. You are truly missed, and never forgotten.
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