David

My earliest memories of someone being unapologetically themselves and not driven to “fit in” or be “just like everyone else” are of David. The way that he seemed to thrive on being different was something that fascinated me and I always admired the heck out of him for. During the gangly, difficult, drama filled years of middle school, David was often a rock I leaned on with his crooked smile, husky laugh, zinging wit and biting sarcasm (yes, even then). He hugged me when I felt overwhelmed by the changes in life, and  always managed to cheer me up or make me laugh (I admit, I often didn’t get his jokes but HE really loved them and his laugh was contagious).

While at West Middle School, David and I and a couple of other friends proudly referred to ourselves as “The Misfits” and talked often of getting jackets made (kind of like the Pink Ladies’ on Grease…  Oh, the irony.) Some of the fondest memories of middle school that I have are of David, showing up at my house as the sun barely cleared the horizon in the mornings, to go jogging with me. For the life of me, I can’t remember WHY we were jogging (I hate jogging. I hate running. I always have) but David was game for it and he was always there to jog with me. In all actuality, he was just kind of walking fast with those long legs of his while I ran next to him, huffing and puffing, moving my little self as fast as I could to keep up. I had such a crush on him but was so afraid I’d scare him off if I told him, so I just soaked up every minute I could with him.

Ironically, it never occurred to me that David was gay. Ever. I was probably the only person in the world who didn’t know he was gay. In fact, I didn’t know until our high school reunion when I showed up, nervous as hell and convinced that all my former classmates would chase me out of there (some insecurities just never die, do they?). Once again, it was David’s presence that calmed my nerves. He walked over to me, put his arm around me and promptly told my husband (who was meeting him for the very first time) and large circle of classmates around us, “You got one amazing girl, here. I was in love with her for years and never could get her to go out with me. I even got up in the dark to go jogging with her! But she never would be my girl, so I gave up and went gay!”

Leave it to David. Right? (I know it wasn’t me that “made” him gay but only HE could get away with making such an announcement…)

I didn’t get to dance with him that night at the reunion but I wanted to. I later caught back up with him on Facebook and our messages are still precious to me. I sobbed when he posted his AIDS story and told of how Darin took such amazing care of him. My heart broke when he wrote about his battle with cancer and I cracked up at every R-rated monologue. Only David could offend me and make me crack up simultaneously. I fell in love with Darin through David’s stories and posts and in April, when I went to visit David at Denver Hospice, I finally got to hug the man meant so much to my precious friend. Spending that last evening with David – and with Darin, Liane, Gail and Durango -  will always be one of my most precious memories. David smiling at me while we took pictures in our matching Bazinga! tshirts, him wiping the tears from my cheeks and giving me that last hug… Right until the end, David was making me smile.

I wish I’d had more of him in my grown up life but I’m so incredibly grateful for the time I did have with him. I am glad that he will be a part of my afterlife. After all, he did promise to meet me when I get there. This time, dammit, we’re going to dance.

David, I love you, dude. You crazy, raunchy, goofy, loving, sweetheart of a nut. I miss you.

(As I was searching through photos, I realized that I have none here at home of David. I think any that I might have are in my mom's family albums... If anyone has one of us, I would LOVE to have it.)