Happy trails, my friend.

I have sat down to write this post a number of times yesterday and today. I get a sentence down only to be interrupted somehow--either by a little one desperately seeking attention right then and there or by my own emotions. Pendulum like emotions swinging from Anger to Sorrow and back to Anger again. I want to be mad--to lash out at Management. But then I think of all of the lives that have been touched and made better, brighter, over the past several years and I can't be angry. But I can be sad. Sad because I just lost a friend. Sad because there's a young woman who is now a widow. Sad because the world now has a hole in it.

Thursday night a friend of mine lost his long battle with cancer. It never fought fair, but then again, neither did Andrew.

Last night a circle of us gathered around and simply reminisced, shared our "Andrew" stories and took solace in our shared grief. It was a beautiful thing. We celebrated his life. His triumphs. His amazing inspiration to others. In a room full of people whose lives had all been touched, and made better for it, by this one individual we all found a measure of comfort.


Almost four years ago Andrew Stevens was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. He was told to put his affairs in order and given only months. Obviously, Andrew had no intention of going quietly into the night. He fought back and he fought dirty. He hung on to life like some tenacious bulldog and refused to back down. He approached his sickness with a complete and total irreverence--never shy to pull out the "Cancer Card" to win an argument or get his own way. But we always knew the disease would win in the end. He only had so many body parts to remove.

I remember the day I found out he was sick. It rocked our little community of friends. He was young. Athletic. He had big--huge--plans for his future. The first time I met Andrew I didn't like him. I thought he was arrogant, cocky and far too full of himself for his own good. Then I found out that I could say stuff like that to him and he'd laugh about it. Anyone who can laugh at themselves and throw it right back is Okay by me. We started out as co-workers. Then we became friends. When the realization hit him that he wasn't going to be around for too much longer his focus shifted. It shifted off of himself and his grandiose dreams and schemes and onto the rest of humanity. He set out to make a difference. He was going to leave a mark.

Andrew organized multiple fund raisers for the Colon Cancer Alliance. His most successful--and most fulfilling for himself--was Cancer Takes A Hike. One of the outcomes from our gathering last night was the dedication to take Andrew's cause and make it an annual hike.

We're burying our friend on Tuesday. But his footprint on our lives was deep. His cause, his goals, his dreams live on.