SMILE, I love you...

Dave was like that.

Even in death, he's trying to make me smile.
When I traveled from Austin, Texas to California the morning of April 19, 2008, I had no idea that writing a blog that day going on about 12 somehow being my new lucky number, was not only a message from the universe I missed but in a weird way I can never explain, Dave's way of sending me light and trying to make me smile.

We met in 1987.
I answered an ad in the local newspaper for a free kitten.
He was a kitty rescuer.

I drove out to what seemed like the middle of nowhere, answering this ad from a complete stranger and proceeded to go inside his house to save my newly adopted kitty.

I remember him coming out in this crazy tye dye shirt, with this gigantic grin written ALL over his face and all I could think was... What. Did. I. Get. Myself. Into.

But then he gone and planted that cheeky grin grin right on and straight through me. And then and there and forever, he always had the ability to undo my dark and make it light.
He was gifted with people like that but I wonder if he knew.

After the day we met, we started on the path of a deep friendship I have yet to mimic with anyone I know. A friendship that stood a true test of time, even if it was only 20 years.

He used to bring me picked flowers from the side of the road on his walks over to see me, gather berries from his garden, write just to say I love you my friend and please SMILE today. Always in capital letters.
He was that kind of soul, that kind of person. The good kind that didn't get made up in someone's head but so real you wondered how he did it. You feared for his sensitivities he wore so selflessly for all to see. Even for people I know didn't deserve it but Dave never saw it that way.

So when I saw him in January of 2007, I had no idea it would be the last time because Dave although struggling most of his life to as we used to say, "to be like a normal person" (whatever that is) he always seemed to land on his feet just like those little kitties he used to save. I was sure he made it out of the woods this time and being that he found his lifelong path of being a ranger, I was sure he was safe from harm amongst the dreams he so deserved to realize.

So tonight, this morning at now nearly 4am, 2 hours since I found out about his passing, I am cursing and loving him for both making April 12 such a horrible day and April 19 the day of his burial a weird one I would come to write what now seems like an insignificant jumble of words about that very number 12.

You see, I didn't know he had passed April 12. And I didn't know on April 19 when I was flying back to the very town we were from and where he was being buried that day that I was writing some ridiculous blog from yet another airport and feeling eerily compelled to blog of the number 12.
A blog full of words that both make no sense yet somehow because I know Dave's calm and peaceful nature in life, he was telling me it was OK. Even in death, he wanted to send me a lucky day. SMILE.

Dave sent me so many beautiful messages over the years.
As friends and so called friends came and went into my life.
All the moves and Uhauls, traveling and lack of postcards and still, he
always tracked and chased me down at just the right time to say: SMILE, I love you!

So simple but if you knew Dave, you would know he really meant it.
I always knew he meant it no matter where in the world I was, how lonely I felt or how unloved I thought I would remain. He beamed right through my computer, through cards and calls and never stopped believing that we both deserved a life full of happiness and peace. And through it all, he emanated peace both to anyone who met him and the world around him. NO matter what and it seems now, even at the cost of his precious life. Dammit.

So to you my sweet-smiling, strawberry-picking, flower-giving friend, I will make you this one last promise of taking that horrible number 12, the day you took your life and making it into something good.
This, this is what you have always done for me and the world around you and so selflessly. Light from dark.

I will celebrate your life not only on this day but everyday. But in my heart when 12 rolls around, I will know you spoke to me even when your nine lives ran out.

I love you Dave. I miss you so much. I'll catch up with you eventually but until I do, SMILE, I love you!