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Saturday, July 14, 2012

Acceptance is one of the first steps

Dan, you had a gift of making anyone feel they have known you all their life. Granted, I grew up knowing you. For much of my young life, you lived directly behind me. If I needed anything, I could call your house. You and your family, without fail, would be there.

Anyone who knew you surely has comforting memories of you in their lives. Mine mainly consists of visiting your wonderful family for any number of occasions. I spent my summers in your pool, jumping on the trampoline, or playing Nintendo in your basement. I mowed your lawn when you couldn't, I house sat when you were out of town, I envisioned myself as a son of yours.

Never did I imagine, at this time of my life, having to live a life without your presence. Your stroke, and passing, caught me off guard. I am still trying to process it. My emotions, for whatever reason, haven't fully expressed themselves. I feel terrible for whomever I am with when they finally do. Something like a loss of such a close ally is hard to digest. Perhaps it just takes time.

Back in 1986, My family moved to St. Louis. Other than a few random families, yours was one of the first that my parents embraced. My brother and I spent a lot of time in the forest between our house and yours. We would painstakingly build and clear trails through the woods, build forts, and set up rope and tire swings. We would also, at times, find it necessary to protect our forest from the kids in the neighborhood of the rival school district behind ours. At the time, it just seemed like stupid boy fun. Now, looking back, I have a clearer vision of why we did it. We wanted to make an impression.

Even if we realized what we were doing was childish, we wanted to gain favor. We looked up to you. You made us feel special, and we gravitated towards that. You were a second father for us, and we miss you.

Losing someone like you is difficult. Nearly impossible. I still can't believe it. You are still in Chesterfield, in my mind's eye. I look up to you for guidance, or even just a reassuring smile. What I would give for just that.

My mom always told me that you were my biggest advocate. You knew everything I was going through, and you were always there to support me. You cared for me like any father should, even if you weren't my own. In the grand scheme of things, you were just a random neighbor. But, of course, you weren't. You were special.

Only now can I realize how lucky I was to have been raised so close to you. Your calm and caring touch has etched itself in to who I have grown to be. Your gentle and supportive hand will continue to guide me to be the person I dream to be.

Never did I expect to lose someone like you, so quickly. Your presence in my life has meant more than you knew, and more than I presently know.

Thank you, Dan.

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