Thinking of Dave...

Yesterday marked the 3 year mark of my brother's passing. Though we all still miss Dave more than anything and wish he were here with his incredible smile, it has been getting easier to handle. I owe that hope and ability to be happy with such a loss to the gospel. What an incredible thing the temple does, sealing our families together forever. I am so grateful to my parents who knew how important getting married in the temple was so that they and all of us kids would be a family forever. We will be with Dave again, that I am sure, and he will make us laugh like never before. He will give me a hug, introduce me to his new hot wife, and let us know how happy he has been. It will be a great reunion someday.
For now, I want to leave you with something my Dad wrote shortly after Dave passed away. It teaches a great lesson and I think all of you should take the time to read it...

Tell Them You Love Them
I don't know exactly when we started to say "I love you" along with "bye" every time we parted, even for a few hours. It was certainly not a tradition I had brought forward from my family. In fact, it may of started when I was in my 50's and "teaching" my father to say those words. With the exception of my Mother's expressions to her children, it was not a common phrase in my family. I don't remember Dad ever saying it, but with the influence of my wife Robyn, it was a welcome phrase that I always enjoyed even if it seemed routine to those around us. In deed, my daughters remember being teased by their classmates in high school about the Curtis' always saying "I love you" every time they said good bye to each other.
It gets easier with practice, and even more meaningful. I started telling Dad I loved him along with "bye" at the end of our phone calls. After many attempts to have him recognize and finally adopt the practice, it finally happened. Initially I could tell it was awkward and even embarrassing for him -- not because he didn't love me, since I always knew he did, but because it just wasn't said in the family unless we were talking to Mom. I loved it now as father of my own family and wanted my parents and brothers to learn and enjoy the practice, also. It has taken time and persistence, but it is worth it each time I get to tell them, and to hear them tell me, that simple phrase.
I remember meeting my son David in the parking lot of my office to trade cars on a bright sunny morning, November 3, 2006. He needed the family Suburban the night before, so I had to drive his car to work that morning. Of course it needed gas and I'm sure I mumbled a few words of annoyance as I had to stop on my way to work to fill it up. As we traded keys later that morning I chided him about having to buy gas for his car. My weak parental attempt at teaching responsibility to a 29-year old was greeted with a big smile -- a trade mark of David's -- which was accompanied with, "Yeah, I know Dad -- but you did it anyway because you love me," which was then punctuated with an even bigger hug.
So much for trying to slip in the lesson. I don't know when I'll finally realize that my grown children are beyond most of these "parental tips". I was the willing student now, being reminded by my son how much more important his expressions of love and even devotion were to me than anything I would be teaching him that day.
I'm sure it would have been a rare if not strange sight to anyone watching to see this young man hugging his father in plain view -- maybe even stranger to observe us finish our short conversation with parting smiles and exchanges of "I love you, Dad"; "I love you, Son".
David's lesson was cemented deep in my soul the next afternoon as we learned of his sudden passing, and I realized these would be the very last words I would hear from David from this side of the Veil. The simple, yet far too rare scene of a twenty-something son hugging his father is now a glorious memory to me which I feel impelled to share with others. It invariably brings on a tearful smile as I remember David's smile, and feelings of gratitude as I remember what a special blessing we have been given. Not only for the comfort of this special memory, but also for the Knowledge that this won't be our last exchange.
The last words David and I spoke to each other were indeed very simple and even routine, yet very heartfelt. I highly recommend the simple exchange no matter how trite it may seem to those around you, for I have found the words grow in meaning and depth each time they're expressed -- "I love you, Dad; I love you, Son".
I want all my family to know that I love them,
Dad