Six years ago, I lost a dear friend; his name was Dave.
He was 46, divorced, and had no children. His second marriage was on the rocks and he had recently lost his job. Dave was in a bad place, so he went home and overdosed on a combination of Soma and alcohol.
I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years. But for some reason, his death hit me the hardest. Dave had a beautiful laugh, a charming personality. His heart was deeper than the Grand Canyon. And to this day, I can’t believe he’s gone.
A week after he died, I had a dream about him. The phone rang, so I picked it up. He was on the other line, chatting away like normal. I waited for him to pause, but he continued. After a few minutes, I interrupted his story.
“Dave, are you still alive? Brother, tell me you’re still alive!”
The phone began to break up with static.
“I’ve got to go,” he said. “I’ve got to go…”
I woke up immediately. The dream was so real, so vivid. His voice was still ringing in my ear.
That was six years ago.
Male friendship is a sacred bond; it’s the backbone of a great nation. Unfortunately, its downplayed in today’s world. So much of the focus is on male/female dynamics – romantic love being the new altar of worship. What’s lost in this shuffle is the tremendous value of male friendship. The kinship that emerges between a band of brothers. I’m glad I’ve been able to experience it. And I’m glad that the Lord has placed excellent people in my path.
RIP Dave…you are still missed.