Not long ago, I read somewhere that our lives are made up of two dates and a dash. The quote implored, "Make the dash count." But how do you know if what you are doing in life truly matters? This is a question I have struggled with nearly my whole life...this idea that my life, my mere existence was worth something, brought real value into this world. I remember as a child being told by more than one adult close to me that I was nothing, would never be anything and I carried that sense of worthlessness with me like a shield, swearing to my "little self" I would prove them wrong. While their words certainly sparked in me a sense of dogged determination, there has always been that tiny little kernel of doubt, sitting there like some shard of glass stuck in the heel of my soul.

As I sat in the chapel yesterday for my cousin Sammy's funeral, it struck me just how many lives a man (or woman) can touch, change. He did nothing grandiose, no heroic acts of greatness, no splashy headline-making feats...all he did was be himself, full of life and smiles, teasing and passion. He was a man from a rural mountain community in a little, obscure place in North Carolina...and yet the ripples of his life touched many, who will in turn touch others. And so it grows, this pack of seeds scattered among others by a man who will never be famous, living a life that won't make any history books, but clearly, undoubtedly, changed the tiny part of the world his life touched.

I have asked myself a hundred times over the past several days if I could go back and change anything about my life, what would it be? The truth is...not a damn thing. That is not to say I have always made "good choices" and I've certainly dealt with plenty of issues that were mindbogglingly difficult. But honestly, all of these things made me who I am. And every day when I step foot in a classroom, or sit down to write, the ripples of my actions go "out" into the world. I decide if I will put forth positive or negative things. I decide if I will truly live an authentic life that adds something 'better" to wherever I am, whatever I'm doing. At the end of each day, I will know if I have done well, even if nobody else is looking or judging me. And if I'm fortunate enough to see another sunrise, I get the chance to start all over again...clean, fresh, and create whatever I'm willing to create. When you think about it, it's amazing! How anyone can believe there is no magic in the world is beyond me, because the ability to do all of those things is, in and of itself, the most powerful magic possible.

To a damaged child, a gentle soul is an oasis, a shelter from life's storms. That is how I remember my cousin Sammy. He was a quiet boy, soft spoken and kind. I saw him at Christmastime and during various summer family gatherings, just moments of time when our paths were fortunate enough to cross...but they left a lasting impression. I remember his happy laughter, his face always eager and willing to smile. They stand out because during those dark days, there weren't a lot of reasons for me to smile. I remember the handsome young man, who seemed to suddenly lose all boyish traits...and the barest glimpses of the amazing man he would become. I hadn't consciously thought of savoring my encounters with him, or any encounters to speak of at that time, having only the strength from my child perspective to merely hold on one day to the next until I could build a Safe Harbour of my own. Fortunately, somewhere in my psyche, I held tight to the precious memories of the boy I knew.

On Friday evening, the sudden blinking out of his life was as quiet as I remember him, and yet the sounds of a resonating thud still send aftershocks into the physical world. Saturday night, under a sky filled with stars, I dug through my memory banks, pulling out every scrap of him I could find. I had spent much of the day going through the social media of his friends and family, learning more about the man I didn't know, trying to connect this new information to the boy from my childhood. I whispered in the night, "Hey, Sammy. I sure wish we'd have gotten our families together for dinner like I'd thought about ever since I've been home. I just wanted you to know that no matter how much time or how many miles separated us, I never forgot you. I'm so proud of the life you built. You're gonna be missed."

It's strange to think he's gone and will never know the gifts he gave to so many. For me, he gave me "happy" in the dark, and his wife, whom I have always felt a spark of recognition for since the moment she and I first connected online. His children, his legacy will be as unobtrusive as the man himself, and yet they will lend a powerful presence in a world who gains greatly from their existence. As I searched for images of him to tuck into my memory, I came across the photo above. I don't know how to express how potently it resonated with me, but when I see it, these are the words that come to mind...
pensive...
eternal...
vast...
tiny...
calm...
tranquil...
footprints...
legacy...

Although he is gone....he remains, his mark left on many, his love touching bits and  pieces of all he knew.