We lost a college friend recently, and I say we, because the unexpected loss was shouldered collectively by a close-knit group of college friends going back 50 years. Our friendship lifted us all through a difficult time.
I felt grateful to have seen my friend just a few months earlier at our annual college reunion. That timing felt like a blessing. And still, my thoughts gathered where they always seem to in moments like this: around the reminder that life is short. For me, that realization turns inward first. David, make the most of your time. Do what you can and what you should. Live your passions while time and health permit, and make room to serve others with generosity and care. I know how easily those intentions fade but, in this moment, I resolve to remember.
This call from Micah 6:8 came to mind: we are to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God. This, I thought, must surely include staying connected to those who matter most to us, even as life has a way of pulling us apart long before we notice.
The years did that, to some degree, to my old roommate and me. Work, family, and distance intervened, but we reconnected occasionally- most recently, at that reunion just months before his passing.
Sitting at his rosary service, listening as friends and family recounted his life, I drifted to my own memories as I watched his smiling face projected on a large screen- his willingness to meet my endless stream of bad jokes and puns with equally bad rejoinders. His easy laugh, contagious love of southern rock (“Call Up Trudy on the Telephone!”), his willingness to toss the football, go to the beach, enjoy a cold beer or debate the condition of the world from our 19-year-old perspectives; his habit of eating powdered donuts (usually a box of them) and of gleefully consuming uncooked hotdogs cold, one-by-one straight from the package as I looked on in utter horror. It turns out he was right, by the way, they do come cooked and ready to be eaten straight out of the package!
He had a laid-back surfer demeanor except on the playing field, where he was a fierce competitor. I’m sure that warrior spirit contributed to his professional success. He had a deep curiosity and knowledge of history and current events, over which we connected during the years we were roommates and buds.
When we talked over dinner at that last reunion a few months ago, and strolled our old stomping grounds on campus, it was as if nothing had changed between us in 50 years. I learned he had just retired from a long and successful career- his short corporate haircut grown over by a mop of shaggy blond hair, circa 1978. He was traveling, seeing the world, happily and lovingly married 30 years to a steadfast woman who patiently led him to faith. He was serving communion at his church and, during a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, was baptized in the Jordan.
This is why I rest believing that my friend is in good hands. I feel it most when I watch the faith of others at work. At his funeral, his wife’s calm steadied my drift toward sadness. Her faith reinforced my own, forming an unbreakable circle stretching back 2,000 years.
Jesus left us with this, from John 14:
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
At the end of the burial service, a family of white doves was released one by one into a clear blue sky, taking flight after a few tentative flaps of their wings- lifting on the wind from the earth up into the great beyond. They lifted from the outstretched hands of loved ones, rising over my friend resting in repose, soaring and circling, waiting to gather before beginning their journey. The doves, we were told, have no trouble finding their way home and neither will we.
The song pairing is a little piece of paradise we can enjoy right now! “The South’s Gonna Do It Again” by the Charlie Daniels Band.
Enjoy and until next time stay safe, be brave and keep walking in the light.
