The moment we grew up

"Death is at your doorstep.

And it will steal

your innocence.

But it will not steal

your substance"

Last night, I was driving home from work, and thought to myself, "I won't accept this." And then I thought of the irony of that. I won't accept death. What other choice is there? One can't be brought back. No matter how much I wish it, it cannot be undone.

Dusty was vibrant. And hilarious. And a genius. And curious, thoughtful, insightful, aware, adventurous, inquisitive, loyal, brave and mischievous. He was a part of the family that grew as a part of our college experience. He made us laugh, made us think, made us appreciate things that we would otherwise take for granted.

I would not have thought of him as a depressed person. I would never have imagined that he struggled so much that he could take his own life. I find myself wishing that I could have been in his head in the moments before he jumped. I wonder if he could have seen the outpouring of love for him, if he would have changed his mind. I wonder if he just wanted to know what it felt like to fly.

In that moment, the world lost a light. We lost someone who could have changed the world. It does not make sense. It does not make sense.

I wonder how we didn't see what was happening under the vibrance. How was he in so much pain and keeping it so private? I wish we could have done something. I wish we could have helped in some way. I wish I could have made him see all that he was, and all he had to offer the world.

I am so grateful for his life. Thoughts of Dusty will always bring smiles to our faces. I know in time the ache in our hearts will fade. And we will never forget.