I’ve been thinking a lot about life and death lately, and about how tenuous our hold on life really is. It’s one thing when a grandparent dies, but a whole new thing when someone in your own age group dies. 40, 35 and 33 are just too young to die.
Chip Imker died on Monday evening, May 23, 2011. His death at 35 earned headlines and he’s been designated a hero because he died in a training accident at the Cambridge Fire Department. He has two young children. When he ate dinner that night, I’m sure the thought of dying never crossed his mind. He was young, strong and healthy. At 35, you don’t think about buying life insurance or creating a will. You don’t make sure that you leave behind letters, photos and videos so that your children will know you if you aren’t there to see them grow up. You’re too busy living life to do that.
- Kip Blomquist had Lou Gehrig's disease.
But Kip Blomquist had to. At 37 he received a diagnosis no one wants to get: three to five years. For the next four years, his young wife and four kids watched him deteriorate. They did, however, have time to prepare themselves, and Kip could make sure he left a legacy behind. Still, his death on June 20, 2011 was terrible. While his loved ones are comforted by the knowledge that he’s in a better place, it doesn’t stop them wishing he was still here. At 40, there is so much you haven’t done yet. Hugged your kids on their graduation day. Walked your daughters down the aisle. Been there when your grandchildren are born.
- Gabe Nielsen in 10th grade.
- Gabe Nielsen with his daughter who is now two.
Gabe Nielsen won’t be able to do any of that. At 33, he was just barely a dad. His life was snuffed out on Saturday, June 25 by a drunk driver in Longmont, Co. He went out to buy groceries, but won’t ever come home. Gabe’s death didn’t have to happen, not this early. It seems like just yesterday that we were all graduating from high school, ready to make our mark on the world. I bet that the drunk driver, Lisa Norton, felt that way once, but at 32 she made some really bad choices and killed a good man, severely injured his two-year-old daughter, harmed his sister, devastated his parents, and saddened all the people who had ever known him.
I hadn’t seen Gabe in years, a decade, but I always figured I would again. I didn’t try that hard to keep in touch; kids, spouses, jobs, other stuff got in the way, like they always do. This is just such a busy time, and it’s easy to let a friendship fall by the wayside. The thing is: you think you have time. You think that there will be time later to catch up on everything you missed. You think that someday — when you all have grey hair — you’ll get together and reminisce about what life was like in your teens. You’ll share the lessons you’ve learned over the years. You’ll reconnect and it will be like all those years never separated you. That’s the nature of friendship, right?
But then tragedy strikes. There is no tomorrow. Now what?
What about all that was unfinished in his life? What about those goodbyes he didn’t get a chance to say — that others didn’t get to say to him?
Here — and then gone. In a split second.
How do those left behind deal with that?
I have so many questions right now, and I can’t even put words to them all. But mostly, I have a heavy heart.
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