From Pat
To Dave…
My heart is so terribly broken knowing that I won’t see or talk to you for the rest of my life. Our conversations, whether lighthearted or serious, always gave me such a lift. I admired and respected how you were constantly growing. Every time you came home from a new adventure, you had also opened up to something new.
You were passionate in your beliefs, your love of friends and family, and your need to explore — the world and your inner self. You needed to know what made everything “tick.” You were as comfortable surrounded by all your friends and family as you were being alone on an island or in the arctic tundra. I don’t think I know anyone else who was as comfortable in their skin as you were.
We shared a love of words, but you took it to a beautiful level. You noticed the world around you and could eloquently bring us into your world — such an amazing talent.
Dave, I love you with all my heart and miss you with all my being. I need to hear, “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be fine.” just one more time.
The next time I see you, I will, of course, bring my trusty pot of pepperoni sauce, chicken scampi, and a bag full of Chik-Fil-A sandwiches!!!
I will sign off the way I signed all my letters and e-mails to you…
Love you. RTLV (remember the little voice).
Mom
Memories of Dave
From the day Dave was born, he brought joy and laughter to our home. He was such a happy baby. As he began to talk, he would actually talk with a smile on his face. We would have to tell him to stop smiling so we could understand him. He was our little “moonface.”
His love of the outdoors started with scouting and — to my dismay — he’d hoped to “rough it” all around the world. When I recently said that I’d always wanted to go to Alaska, he immediately said he’d go with me, but it definitely couldn’t be a cruise; we had to fly to Alaska, rent a vehicle, and head off into the hinterlands. I remember gulping, smiling, and saying, “Are you sure? We may never be heard from again!” He said, “C’mon, Ma, you gotta put some adventure in your life.” I told him I was concerned they’d find two frozen people-sicles in the spring.
That was Dave — always playing “outside the box” taking the more difficult road because it was more interesting—more adventurous.
In June, we celebrated his niece’s second birthday at the shore. He had driven to the shore alone in my car and I rode home with him. As I grabbed my wallet for the toll he said, “You have an EZ Pass here.” I said,”No, don’t use that, it was George’s and there’s just a couple of dollars left.” “Well, I used it coming down here,” he said. “Well, then DEFINITELY don’t use it again. I’ll get a ticket!”
As we approach the booths, he’s laughing and aiming for the EZ Pass lane — “C’mon, Ma, live on the edge!” I told him, “Live on the edge? You’re gonna pay the fine.” He just laughed and laughed and went right through the EZ Pass lane and agreed to pay the fine — if I got one.
He’ll be glad to know that I didn’t get that fine — yet!!!
Cute stories that make me smile — stories that show how his travelled roads were not to be as most. He definitely walked to the beat of his own drums and gave me many gray hairs in his journey!!
Over the years, we’ve had so many miles between us, but we never were apart. Between e-mails and phone calls, we always stayed in close touch and I’d always give a huge sigh of relief once he was home again. Then he’d start talking about his next adventure.
I thought Survival School should be better than some of the contracts he’s talked about in the past. It was only a month. I’d worry, but that’s what I do. Hey, the instructors must know their stuff. Right? I hated that we’d lose touch for the month. But, he’d be home in just one month; not six or twelve as other contracts had been. Just a month.
I said my usual, “Be safe. I love you” followed by a great big bear hug.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be fine. Love you, too.” As he walked into the airport, he turned, smiled his usual smile and gave us a big wave. When he arrived in UT he called me to say he arrived just fine and not to worry. He was going to bed early so he’d be well rested the next day.
Two days later our world just ripped open and fell apart.
Our lives will never again be the same.
God, I miss that kid!!!