Life's about showing up...
I've struggled on what to write. On what to say, on how to move my blog, my work, and in some aspects my life forward. My last blog post was entitled "I will not be broken..." It was my reaction to gun violence, to the ongoing struggle for equality, and to the disparate need for holistic criminal justice reform. When I wrote those words I could have never predicted that one month to the day of that post they would take on a whole new meaning in my life.
On August 8th my world and my family's world was shattered. I lost my brother and the world lost a kind, giving, and caring soul with a golden smile. Zach was 22. He was a football player for the University of Arizona and he was the only person who could inspire me to download the ESPN app to keep up with all the U of A football news.
Many wise people before me have said that loss redefines your life and that couldn't be more true. In so many ways I am in the middle of coping with that redefinition. Coming to terms with all the things that will never be - brotherly conversations, Zach's wedding, future nieces and nephews, finally entering those years that shrink the age gap because you are now in the same phase of life; and celebrating life's triumphs, sharing it's struggles, and laughing as much as you can together.
As hard as it can be to deal with loss, I am blessed because my final memories with Zach were from a family trip to Mexico. We got to spend time together hanging out by the pool, grabbing drinks, and riding ATV's in the desert. It was nothing but good times and happy memories.
In celebrating Zach we were able to hear from family, friends, teammates, and complete strangers on how he touched their lives. In many ways it was comforting to hear that his life had purpose and meaning beyond what we even knew.
I strongly believe in the reciprocal touch of life - that each person we meet impacts our life and we impact theirs in return. I believe it is a foundational part of life's promise. And this past month has only served to reinforce that belief. Zach touched my life and the lives of people I have never met. He was loved and he will be missed, but his presence and impact will be felt in the hearts of those who knew him and that is life's greatest measure.
If there is one thing I have learned from loss - from the loss of my grandmother, grandfather, and now my brother - it is that life is about showing up.
Each of these people showed up in my life in their own way. From my grandparents who showed up to raise me when it was needed, to Zach who filled the place of brother in my heart and touched more lives than I think he would ever know with his childlike spirit, love of children, and good nature.
I am not alone in my pain or my loss, but I am steadfast in my belief that life is indeed about showing up. Showing up not only in moments of great joy and great heartache, but in the moments that may seem mundane, because those moments may have the greatest impact.
So, I'll leave you with the story I shared at a reception held in Zach's honor in the U of A Stadium.
"He was a six foot three behemoth of a man, but to me he will always be that cute yet obnoxious four year old with an amazing bowl cut who promised me he wouldn't tell his parents when we went for a joyride around the neighborhood in his father's Volvo. I was fourteen and he confessed. He was a truth teller."
Yes, you were a truth teller and you will be missed my dear brother. Thank you for showing up for me. Rest easy, one day we shall see each other again.
On August 8th my world and my family's world was shattered. I lost my brother and the world lost a kind, giving, and caring soul with a golden smile. Zach was 22. He was a football player for the University of Arizona and he was the only person who could inspire me to download the ESPN app to keep up with all the U of A football news.
Many wise people before me have said that loss redefines your life and that couldn't be more true. In so many ways I am in the middle of coping with that redefinition. Coming to terms with all the things that will never be - brotherly conversations, Zach's wedding, future nieces and nephews, finally entering those years that shrink the age gap because you are now in the same phase of life; and celebrating life's triumphs, sharing it's struggles, and laughing as much as you can together.
As hard as it can be to deal with loss, I am blessed because my final memories with Zach were from a family trip to Mexico. We got to spend time together hanging out by the pool, grabbing drinks, and riding ATV's in the desert. It was nothing but good times and happy memories.In celebrating Zach we were able to hear from family, friends, teammates, and complete strangers on how he touched their lives. In many ways it was comforting to hear that his life had purpose and meaning beyond what we even knew.
I strongly believe in the reciprocal touch of life - that each person we meet impacts our life and we impact theirs in return. I believe it is a foundational part of life's promise. And this past month has only served to reinforce that belief. Zach touched my life and the lives of people I have never met. He was loved and he will be missed, but his presence and impact will be felt in the hearts of those who knew him and that is life's greatest measure.
If there is one thing I have learned from loss - from the loss of my grandmother, grandfather, and now my brother - it is that life is about showing up.
Each of these people showed up in my life in their own way. From my grandparents who showed up to raise me when it was needed, to Zach who filled the place of brother in my heart and touched more lives than I think he would ever know with his childlike spirit, love of children, and good nature.
I am not alone in my pain or my loss, but I am steadfast in my belief that life is indeed about showing up. Showing up not only in moments of great joy and great heartache, but in the moments that may seem mundane, because those moments may have the greatest impact.
So, I'll leave you with the story I shared at a reception held in Zach's honor in the U of A Stadium.
"He was a six foot three behemoth of a man, but to me he will always be that cute yet obnoxious four year old with an amazing bowl cut who promised me he wouldn't tell his parents when we went for a joyride around the neighborhood in his father's Volvo. I was fourteen and he confessed. He was a truth teller."
Yes, you were a truth teller and you will be missed my dear brother. Thank you for showing up for me. Rest easy, one day we shall see each other again.
With love,
DC3FO
