When my sister-in-law Robyn posted on here last week about her husband's battle with Stage 4 cancer, we had no idea how the next few days would unfold. I thought it was time for Robyn to share their story because last month the doctors told us that Dave could no longer be treated, but we thought the very hardest time wouldn't come until the fall. Maybe the end of the year. Everyone was still making memories and had uplifting summer plans.
Instead, late Monday and then through the week, Dave's health took a rapid decline that surprised everyone. They started hospice on Wednesday, and by Friday the family started to gather. It was unbelievable that Dave - shown here just a few weeks ago in Chicago - was slipping away so quickly.
I took the kids to Oklahoma before I met The Gorilla in Virginia. Surrounded by family, Dave passed away peacefully on Monday afternoon. In the last few days, I have been stunned by the outpouring of grief and love.
I've known Dave for over ten years, since before The Gorilla and I started dating. He was 6'5", booming loud, and full of life. The type of person you remember meeting even just once. But with a span of country between us, our interactions have been mostly familial. The Gorilla's family is full of strong personalities, but Dave was really the energy in the room. He sang with gusto and laughed loudly. He was a leader no matter what.
What I knew in my head, but didn't fully understand until now, is that Dave was not only great at his job as a high school principal, he was changing lives there. Most people, upon their passing, are not covered in the Washington Post (an excellent article, by the way). Most adminstrators, from my observance, do not leave teachers, students, and parents weeping.
On Monday night, when word spread like wildfire through the community and social media, students from the high school initiated and organized a candlelight vigil at the school. Hundreds and hundreds of people attended, lit candles, said a prayer and paid respects while a few chosen students spoke of Dave's influence.
The next day at the high school's graduation, my husband stood in front of a full gymnasium and paid tribute to their beloved principal - his only brother - and then stayed on the stage to shake every hand of the senior students who had experienced a complete turnaround in their school since Dave took over.
All kinds of people approached us to share stories of what Dave had done for them, their kids, their families, their school, the whole community. It was hard and humbling to hear these things - so much pride for a man we already loved, but such sadness for the brevity of his life.
I knew him as my husband's brother, as Uncle Dave. I watched him be a father, husband, and son. I didn't really know or understand the important role he played daily or the legacy he was carving out. But now I do, and I want everyone else to see it, too.
We lost a giant this week.
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I cannot begin to tell you how much your messages, comments, tweets, and emails have meant to our family as we grieve this loss. Thank you. This is what they mean by "internet community."
