In the end, the important part is that we, who are left behind, have lost a part of ourselves. Troy was an especially lively person, the one who organized a new ride that everyone then found to be one of their favorites. When we descended from the wonderful climb up Mt Laguna that he put together, it was a party. We hooted and hollered, and screamed down from the top. I remember he had just got a new video camera that he had mounted on his handlebars to record the descent. He was the one who had the latest and coolest gadget. And he was always so proud of having got a great deal on it.
The church was filled with his friends and acquaintances, and especially with those who were friends and acquantances of Troy's family and closest friends.
He had recently returned from a cycling trip with two of his closest friends. They climbed the fabled Mt. Ventoux from each of its 3 directions this day ...
Several weeks aftet the memorial service, I ran across some UCC Cyclery teammates of Troy and I learned how Troy died. He had been shooting a classic shotgun, I think one that had belonged to his grandfather, and a shell got lodged in the chamber. He took the gun home and later was trying to dislodge the shell, when the gun went off and hit him in the chest. God, what a waste! RIP, Troy.
I always marvel when when someone fit and strong dies suddenly of misadventure.
ReplyDeleteDeath to me - in fantasy at least - belongs to the frail, weak and sickly, not to the strong.
I am so sorry, Dan. I'm sorry.
ReplyDeleteDeath will claim us all regardless of how we live, we'll never see it coming unless we drive ourselves there on our own. I live (mostly) each day knowing this is as good as it will ever get, and how good it is is (mostly) up to me.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry for your loss, Dan.
Come out and climb the Onion at the DVRSR this June and be jubilant you're alive and can do it, and fly down the mountain and it will be good.
It's so odd to find your blog now that you've passed. And to read this post - it sends shivers down my spine. "We" miss you as you left too soon, and "we" weren't ready. And why am I writing this on your blog that I know you'll never read??
ReplyDeleteIt must be part of the grieving process to express the sorrow, the loss, and wishing there was a way to comprehend the end of life. Rest in peace, Dan.