This past weekend, my husband Joe and I traveled to the memorial service of a friend and former colleague who passed away almost two years ago. Dave’s friends arranged a gathering in his hometown area that was perhaps the most extraordinary we’ve ever attended. They rented a bar in downtown Allentown, PA and arranged for a band. The venue was very casual, and had special meaning for many people who had shared his love of music in that very spot. Many first dates and joyous evenings were spent there.
Joe worked with Dave thirty years ago, and Dave was present at our wedding almost 26 years ago. Though our contact waxed and waned over the years, he was one of those dear people who made a gentle but lasting impression. We agreed afterward that probably everyone in the room learned something new about this gentle, kind man this past weekend.
Dave had at least four careers in his 7+ decades, and brought his special brand of industriousness to each of them. His last career was as a physical therapy assistant. Never content to “just do his job,” he went above and beyond simply helping folks do their rehab exercises. Many of his clients had other challenges, including financial ones, and he made sure to aid them in every way possible. One client had a rickety old wheelchair, so Dave fixed it. He tended to his patients’ emotional needs by making “mix tapes” as a kind of music therapy. He was even fired for doing things like this, because he was taking too much time with his patients. Luckily, he found another PT clinic that valued his gifts and holistic approach.
There was plenty of laughter and tears, and of course there was a band to celebrate his love of music. But the thing that touched us the most was how over the years Dave took special delight in connecting with people, and connecting his friends with others. It seemed only right that his memorial mirrored his life, with music, poetry, and connection.
We were left deeply moved. I suppose the more time passes, the more memorial services mean. It’s only natural to wonder if you’re living well, and if you’d be remembered the way you’d wish. Dave was such a model of kindness, of service to others, and of intellectual and personal growth, he just made us want to live better. He was fully present with his friends, and many folks recalled hours-long philosophical conversations.
When I was in my 20s I read Stephen Covey’s “Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.” Unfortunate title aside, its focus on leaving a legacy was the reason I returned to pursue my doctorate, so I could teach. Dave returned to school IN HIS 60s so he could serve others…no small feat! He knew instinctively that helping others was a path to fulfillment, and leaves the most beautiful legacy of all.
I guess it is fitting that I’m posting this on a day of remembrance. This weekend left us both contemplative and grateful, and seriously considering not just how we live, but why and with/for whom. Dave was a model of a beautiful life.