It is with a great sadness weighing on my shoulders that I write this tonight. The details are unimportant, but essentially through circumstances beyond my control, and mostly beyond my realm of comprehension, I was unable to take part in the celebration of Adam’s life that was held earlier this evening, which I had with all my heart hoped to be present for. I wanted genuinely nothing more than to be surrounded by friends, sharing in the love and memory of so exceptional a human being as Adam.
Thus again I find myself writing to help pacify the anxiety, to wipe away the tears shed in sorrowful remembrance, and to relieve the hurt of my absence, but more deeply, more heavily, his own.
So I have a few additional things I’d like to share about Adam, just another small collection of things I’ve given thought to in the past few days. My hope is that any of you reading this little blog of mine might be able to relate to my experience of having known him, or maybe even hopefully crack a smile in spirited memory.
As I said in my previous entry, I had the miraculous good fortune of meeting Adam in the 10th grade, where after getting to know him beyond his fascinating exterior, we shared what I’d like to think of as a very unique circle of friends, of all kinds. As I’ve said he was an intimidating character, very boisterous and animated, but at the same time one of the most accepting and non-judgmental people I could ever hope to know.
Being friends with Adam was a little like making friends with a hurricane. On the outside he was as loud, bright, thunderous, chaotic and unpredictable as they come. But inside, there was this inexplicable calm… a center, composed of intrinsic fortitude and integrity. He was fiercely loyal, and equally compassionate. I had never met, nor have I met since anyone who so thoroughly, yet gracefully defied categorization.
He was more than just a good friend to me; in years younger, he was more like a brother in some respects than my own blood. I can remember sometimes catching myself wishing that had actually been the case. He taught me a few fundamental things about self-respect, about being who you are, who you want to be, who it feels right to be, and to hell with what anyone else thought. He taught me a bit about standing up for yourself, and what’s right. He taught me, by example, a lot about what real self-esteem is at a time in my life when I very much needed it. I am and will always be endlessly thankful for these things.
For better or for worse, Adam had the uncanny ability to leave a mark on anyone he interacted with. He was one man, one person whose touch reached out to multitudes. There was a fire in him, or more accurately, a blazing inferno, that could never be overlooked, never be diminished, never extinguished, and certainly never destroyed. Now that flame and that intensity has simply been passed on to us. And though his passing is a sad and mournful occasion, I must say that I am profoundly happy to have had the honor of calling him my friend, and that I will carry his flame with me for the rest of my life, because he would expect nothing less.
In closing, I guess if there’s one last thing I can say about Adam… it’s that if the gates of Heaven don’t open for him, by God I hope he breaks them down.
Thank you for reading my entries, thank you for your comments, your words of support and encouragement, and most of all, thank you for being a part of Adam’s life. I know he loved his friends just as much as we all treasured him. ~ Robert S. Bishop