Rest in peace Dexter…

I tried to write this goodbye yesterday, but couldn’t. It’s nearly impossible to say rest in peace to a childhood friend who was only 44.

I’m not sad; no, I lie. It’s a lie I’ve been telling myself for days. I am sad—sad I’ll no longer see Dexter when I drive to Itta Bena. Sad it will take me years to remember—to admit—that he is gone.

I’m not sad for Dexter, I’m sad for me. You see, anyone who knew Dexter would know that sadness was not in his vocabulary. He was not a noun type of guy.

Dexter was full of life, so I guess that means he was a verb or maybe an adjective. Yes, adjective seems to fit.

He was lively and definitely always full of movement.

He was also spontaneous. Planning is for suckers and Dexter was no sucker. He enjoyed the moments.

When we were younger I wanted to be more like him. I tried and tried, but sadly, I’m a planner. Lately I’ve been trying to add more spontaneity to my day. I’m really trying ‘cause Dexter would want that for me. Sigh. Rest in peace my friend.


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