Four years ago today, my friend Adam died during a BASE jump. His physical form has now been absent from this planet longer than I knew him. That’s a hard one to swallow.
August 1 is a day I always clear my schedule for. Today, I’ll go to @baronsmarket, grab a sandwich (they stopped selling his favorite, turkey with raspberry chipotle sauce) and head to Sunset Cliffs for a picnic.
It’s really difficult to wrap my head around the fact that from now moving forward, the ratio of “years alive with Adam” vs “years without him here” will be skewed in the other direction. I find myself clinging to memories like someone is going to take them away, while simultaneously punishing myself for not being present and for being so attached.
Either way, I know he’s always got my back. @blueskyshaman and I have some exciting news to share soon (NO WE ARE NOT HAVING BABIES) and the way this is all lining up, I know Adam has a hand in how it’s all falling into place.
If you’ll remember my post from before my hike in Tromso, I have been struggling with the idea that Adam went home, unexpectedly, before he died. I’ve been equating that with my pending death whenever I feel called to go home or reach out to a friend.
My grieving brain has long equated tying up loose ends with impending doom, and when I finally admitted that and talked to his mom about it, the message came through crystal clear: “I didn’t have enough time to tell everyone how much I love them, so now when you feel called to do so, know that it’s me nudging you. You don’t have to fear this, you do it naturally and now you get to do this for both of us.” For today, do me a favor. If you feel called to reach out to someone today, even if it’s out of nowhere, even if you haven’t talked to them in forever, DO IT. Please. I would give anything to have the chance to call Adam one more time.