A friend of mine died on Monday.
He loved music more than anyone else I know. He was gentle. He was fun. He drove the bookmobile. He loved going to the Student Housing apartments at Western Michigan University because the kids were so cute when he brought them books, and the moms brought him food from their homelands, wherever that happened to be.
I can’t believe I have to write about him in past tense. He used to have an ancient cat named Eleanor, but she died too. She was old though. He was young. I am stunned, and sad, and I’m going to fall apart when I see his little brother and other friends tomorrow. This post isn’t going to make sense, because I can’t make sense of Dale’s death… I learned of his death yesterday, but when my Dad read me the obituary from the paper today, I couldn’t get my head around the fact that it was really Dale he was talking about. I am happy thinking of memories but so sad that there won’t be anymore, ever again.