C U Soon, 53

Yesterday, we said a collective goodbye to a most beloved friend. I say "collective" because most of us have already said goodbye in some form or fashion: maybe even more than once. For that reason, Craig and I decided, funerals and memorials are tricky. They are, of course, not for the dead, but for the living. And should you go if you've already said goodbye? Yep. And here's why: saying farewell to a friend together is rather like saying hello to God together. It's the reason we go to church. It's also the reason we go to weddings and baptisms and baby dedications and birthday parties and anniversary bashes...and even funerals. We go to mark the occasion together.

Because we need to do it together. 

To remember. 

Together.

So March 6, 2010, was a collective goodbye. It was also, I thought, an interesting day of numbers. It was the anniversary of David & Renee's first date. (Yeah, that one grabbed my heart like a vise). It comes in David's 40th year, 5 months after his birthday, during his 13th year of marriage to Renee. We sang 5 songs and saw Philippians 4:13 on the program cover (note that 4+1 is 5 which morphs 4:13 into 53). Huh. That leads to perhaps the most noteworthy number of the day: 53. March 6th marked the 53rd day since David's death - and he has two sons...ages 5 and 3. And, according to www.timeanddate.com (which provides a meteorological breakdown of weather every ten minutes anywhere in the world), from 2:54 to 4:54 pm in Colorado Springs, CO, the temperature was...wait for it...53 degrees. On the dot. We released red balloons in the west parking lot, each one containing a note we jotted to honor the memory of David. In letting loose those red spheres of latex, we weren't just making an empty gesture: we were signifying our collective release of a friend, letting him go to rest high on that mountain. I checked the time: we finished the release at 3:47 pm...when it was 53 degrees.

Now, I'm not a numerologist. I'm not convinced that numbers make the world go round, though I do think they matter to God in specific biblical contexts. And maybe I'm reading far too much into  it. Or maybe not. Sometimes miracles are where we see them. Where we search for them. Where we're willing to embrace them.

And then they, like we, are found. 

Craig and I released one balloon from both of us: our message read, "C U Soon." Because we will. We look forward to it. From this day on, I'll associate David's memory with the number 53 if, for no other reason, than I believe we saw comfort that day...on the wind carrying away red balloons, under the sunshine of a blue-sky canvased day, amidst an unseasonably warm 53. On the 53rd day.

Finally, I'll say this: I was a David Hames groupie. Correction. I AM a David Hames groupie. A fan. A follower of his example. He was a "special song" performer who didn't become someone else on that stage so much as he let us glimpse a part of who he really was - our resident rock star. Yesterday, we recalled probably his most momentous performance - "Kryptonite" by 3 Doors Down. It seemed, when David sang, he did it better than the original artists...and I sat there listening to the band do that song, and I heard my friend's voice singing it better. Doing it better. Which was pretty much how he lived: always wanting to do better. Be better.

Yeah, he was one of the good guys.

I grieve his absence on this earth. 

But I'm comforted, nonetheless. 

By Kryptonite.

By red balloons. 

By 53. 

And because I know I can tell him I'll "C U Soon."