 Samuel Eugene Hill 1968-2016 R.I.P. Photo taken by his daughter, Emily 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.
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About The Author
I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter. Archives
November 2018
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