Searching for Blue Skies

I stood in the doorway of the church with the sun at my back. There were pictures of him everywhere and people spoke in hushed tones. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Hey kiddo! What’s up?”
He walks into my office, his head covered with the thickest crop of chocolate brown hair I’ve ever seen. His shirt is starched and his shoes are expensive. It’s only 8am but I would venture to guess that the 'Go Fast' in his hand is his third or forth of the day. We have a ton of work to do and none of it’s going to be fun but he’s got a smile on his face.

The preacher spoke of loss and the pain that accompanies it. I stared at the photo on the altar and said of prayer of thanks that there was no casket. Of course, I knew there wouldn’t be one as he’d had specifically asked to be cremated. A video started and the woman sitting behind me began to cry softly. I watched the pictures flash on the screen and asked myself the question that had been playing on repeat in my head since last Monday night: How did this happen?

I’m nervous as I walk into the staff meeting. I’m about 15 minutes early because I know this group is tough and I want to be the first in the room. I open the door and he’s already there, making notes on the white board. He tells me I look nervous and I tell him I am. He smiles at me and says, “Nobody ever got respect by looking scared. Even if you’re nervous, you’ve got to look like you’re in charge.”

His friends and family spoke about his life and their love for him. They talked about his love for his family and his successful career. They shared anecdotes about ski trips and Ride the Rockies and drunken adventures on the 4th of July. His three daughters wrote a letter to the father they adored. They talked about the cancer research fund he had established after his close friend succumbed to the disease and how he had single-handedly raised nearly $150,000 for the fund. They talked about his love of Colorado and the mountains.

It’s unbearably hot outside and he’s standing over a huge grill making burgers for everyone at the bbq. “Hey kiddo, you need another beer?” He asks the question but he’s already handing me a cold bottle. He looks a little distracted and I ask if everything is ok. “Just have a few things on my mind but nothing for you to worry about. You better get a burger before they’re all gone.” He smiles as he starts to put the hotdogs on the grill and the look of concern disappears.

There was a moment during the service when the word "depression" was used. My stomach immediately knotted up. We already knew too much about what had happened. The media made sure every detail was told - even down to the fact that the letter was "only 66 words long". The minister ended the service by reminding everyone the importance of being able to ask for help when it's needed.

We drove to the foothills for the reception. It was a gorgeous day yesterday – sun shining brightly, blue skies all around and a few fluffy clouds for good measure. The outcropping of rocks looked even more red than normal because of the fresh powder. The snow crunched under my boots as I walked up the hill. I stopped for a second and thought, “This is the kind of day he would have enjoyed.”