A Farewell To A Fair Fellow.

 I have been putting this post off for a while now, but finally have run out of reasons to procrastinate any longer.   Honestly,  I have been struggling to find the words to begin this long goodbye.   As mentioned previously,  I dislike goodbyes.   But there is a time when I think something has to be said...  Even if it is a random train of thoughts woven together that ultimately say nothing.   So here it goes...

As I have probably mentioned previously,  Dave and I met in High school back in the '80's.   Michigan Lutheran Seminary was a fairly small school, so everyone pretty much knew everyone.   But we traveled within the same circle of friends, and were not in sports, so we did lots of stuff together. ( Lots of D&D campaigns. with Paul Maske.)  

We stayed in touch through college,   he and my brother went to Northwestern while I went to DMLC.  Both of them would visit me occasionally,   ( Because DMLC had all of the girls!)  And we would catch up on things.   And that led us to Alaska!

Ah Alaska!   I will struggle to stay focused, as the topic of Alaska often takes me down tangents that pull at my storyline.  But let's just say that Me,  my brother,  Dave, and several other Northwestern and DMLC students had possibly one of the best summers in my memories.  A summer filled with Fishing, Hiking, midnight sun parties, and battles with Battletech.    Lots of Battletech!  (Battletech, the board game, replaced our D&D campaigns.) 

And then,  I graduated.  And joined the Army.  When I was assigned Alaska,  I stopped in at the Lodge where we worked, only to find Dave cooking there!   He had signed up for another summer, unbeknownst to me.   We did not have much  time to chat, but that was the last time I had seen him. 

Fast forward 25 years!

If you  followed the previous blog, you may know what happened.   I was going through a rough patch in my life. And I will skip most of that part.   Even now, I'm not sure how to put this part into words where it would be believable.   Dave likes me telling the story, but I think it makes me sound like a crazy person.  But after writing several paragraphs,  I figure I might as well put this story down in the blog somewhere... Crazy or not....  So here it goes:  

I was unable to sleep.   Five nights in a row,  I could not get more than an hour of sleep, and found myself waking up  in the middle of the night with crippling anxiety.   To combat this,  I was taking long walks through the Iowa countryside.   Down these long gravel roads,   where there was not much light aside from the moon, stars, and an occasional farm light off in the distance.  

 

It was almost poetic... "Lost in the Darkness."  

But being alone in the dark kind of forces you to talk to God.  And, even though I had not been to a church service in years,  that is what I found myself doing.   Talking aloud... in the darkness.   To no one!  Crazy!  Right?  

But this one night,  I was asking God to give me a sign.   ANYTHING!  Because I was really REALLY lost and struggling for what to do next.   

And then,  as if on queue...  A light came on.   One of those motion-detecting flood lights that blind you if you are looking at it when it hits you.  The Irony and coincidence was not lost on me.  

I walked over to the building the light was coming from,  figuring a raccoon or other small animal must have triggered it.   But the light stayed on.   And as I approached,  I noticed it was coming from the Lutheran Church.   

There are Lutherans in Wellman Iowa?  With it's flood light on at 2 AM in the morning?    I knew there were Amish, and Mennonites.    There were Presbyterian and even a Catholic church in our small, sleepy, Iowa town.   But I had never noticed the Lutheran church, tucked over on the other side of town...  I'm not even sure what denomination it was. (Missouri synod, perhaps.)   But that was it.   Nothing more happened.   

I don't know what I was expecting...  A booming voice to tell me what to do next, I guess.   But nothing.   After 20 minutes,  I moved on.   And continued my walk just thinking about the odd coincidence that happened.  

The next night, around the same time, I found myself once again in that area.   I figured I would walk up and "trip" the flood light once again.   Only,  this time,  there was nothing....

No light at all!  I stood under it waving my arms and nothing happened.  This caused me to begin questioning if it had even happened initially.   And Once again,  I asked God,  "What should I be doing?"  'Where should I go?"  

And I heard a voice.   Not the Booming Voice you would imagine.   But one in my head.   As clear as if someone was whispering it in my ear.   Dave Pagel. 

Of all the people in the world...  My Parents are gone.  My Brother and I had not spoken in years.  My other friends lived in Michigan and Alaska.  Why Dave Pagel? 

I had not been in contact with him for 25 years!  What will I even say to him?   How will he receive me after such a long time?   I had at least, a small line of communication through Facebook.  I sent him a "short" vague message to see what would follow.  

Imagine my surprise when he replied quickly.   And with just enough information to encourage me to make a phone call.  Which I did. And from there,  he invited me to stay with him in Kenosha.    

And I took it.   

He gave me a place to stay and a chance to breathe.   And most of all, I started going to Church again.

There is much to thank him for.  Even now, I currently reside in a house he managed to acquire from the Church. ( though, temporarily. of course. )    I had been staying with him for the last three years, and got to know his family and friends. ( He has a LOT of acquaintances. in Kenosha.) And found a way back into life.  I even got to answer a question that had been plaguing me for 25 years.  It was almost as if it were all a "Divine Intervention."  

I think back on where I was at that time.  It is doubtful that I would have landed as squarely on my feet as I have now.  And I don't know the future, but I do think it is brighter than it was that dark night.   

And Dave was instrumental in that journey.   

And so I would like to thank Dave.   For being there.  For being a friend.  And for Helping me out in the darkest of hours.  I can imagine that NO ONE can imagine the pain and suffering one goes through unless they, themselves have gone through something similar.  And the response to that pain and suffering that others give helps shape who you will become.   Someone who helps?  Or someone who ignores?   Or worst.... Someone who shames!   

As I feared,  this is swaying into a story about me,  so I will try to get back on track.   I would wish Dave the happiest of futures.   Enough struggle to keep life a challenge, And enough reward to make it all worth it.  He is quite different from me in many ways, but I do hope that if ever the time arises where I can help out another person, I will not hesitate.   And that is a HUGE, scary commitment for me since I am a terribly introverted person.   Dave made it look easy, inviting a "stranger" into his home and allowing him to stay for three years.   I'm not sure I could have ever done such a thing...

So farewell to Dave.   May he find Happiness in the Frozen tundra of Canada. ( I think it is nearly the same latitude as Kenosha Wisconsin... So not that huge of a change)   And he finds someone there to help him in his next chapter of Life.  With a little luck, he will keep up a facebook page so I can check in on him from time to time.  

And perhaps,   someday,  in the not so distant future,  we will meet again.   And reminisce about "That time in Kenosha"  when the  music played; and we moved those people; and we toured all of those breweries; and we fished that lake;  and that time the  house burned down...  

Um...  Yeah...

And we laugh.   

Over a beer and a Brat.   On a warm summer afternoon....  While playing a game of Cribbage.

That would be "Just like Old Times...."