Joanna reached out to our family almost five months ago to send us her heartfelt condolences. Dave had often been in her thoughts since the horrible day of his death.
You see, Joanna was also one of the hikers that day.
After reading the poems on Dave’s website and all of the stories written about him, she felt quite connected to the person Dave was shown to be. At that time, she said, I had a chance only to begin to get to know Dave, but it was immediately clear to me that he was a special soul.
She further shared the thoughts she had immediately after Dave’s death. I had barely even exchanged words with Dave. Nonetheless, even from our few interactions, it was immediately clear to me that he radiated a rare kindness and integrity, that quiet depths lay behind his upbeat smile, and that he was profoundly happy to be out in the deserts of southern Utah. I distinctly remember the word chivalrous popping up in my head that first afternoon as I watched him helping other people on our course, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. I was looking forward to getting to know him.
We shared with Joanna our belief that Dave surrounds us everyday and gives us strength to help us accept his loss. There are signs everywhere; we just need to be observant to them. This is very comforting to us. I’m sure that is why she shared with us some special moments when I thought strongly of Dave.
This is part of the message from postcards we received from Joanna last month:
A few weeks after my trip to New York, I went to the Philippines for work. One morning I was sitting on the stoop outside my little hotel enjoying the trees and garden in the midst of crazy Manila, and a single, gorgeous butterfly flew by. That particular butterfly made me think of Dave, and I watched it fly, contemplating how indeed, these little creatures are messengers from a spirit world beyond our own. Everything about them suggest it. I had dinner that night with a lovely Filipino friend of mine, and somehow we got on the subject of butterflies. He proceeded to tell me about one specific kind of butterfly a “large, yellow and black” and described the one I had seen that morning. He said, “Here in the Philippines we believe those butterflies are messengers of loved ones who have passed.” I was so delighted to learn that, and wanted to share that with you! My friend also told me that his dad died when he was 12, and that he and his family had had many strange and wonderful encounters with butterflies after his death, and still today. (I should point out that our family and many of Dave’s friends have had numerous butterfly encounters, a fact which I shared with Joanna. We will share these with you with another posting.)
Joanna continued, My last afternoon in Kyoto, I visited an old temple at the edge of the city, surrounded by gardens. It was heartbreakingly beautiful, so peaceful. As I was walking away after if closed, I noticed a little side street with a footpath leading up wooded hills at the edge of the old little neighborhood. I felt drawn to follow it, and found it led to a small shrine, housed in a wood pagoda. The pagoda had an old beam across the top, with hundreds of little strips of paper tied to it, with handwritten notes in Japanese, from people who had come here before me, with thoughts and prayers for worlds beyond ours. There was a little wooden shelf with blank slips of paper, red ribbon, and an old fashioned pen.
I wrote for Dave on a single sheet, and tied it with the rest to the rafter above me. I stood there a few moments in silence, rang the bell on the shrine to help my message arrive at its destination and went back down the footpath.
Thank you so very much, Joanna, for remembering Dave in such a wonderful way. And, although you may not have known Dave for very long, it is clear from your words and your actions that he had an impact on your life. As his mother, you can only imagine how much this has touched me.
