Truly One Hell of a Guy

Here I am. On flight 7619 from Cedar Rapids, Iowa to Denver, Colorado. It was a bit of a whirlwind, 48-hour trip but one that I wouldn’t have missed for anything.

Tuesday night as I watched Christmas movies Kendra called me. Kendra is my best friend from high school. The one that still calls just to say hi. The who when we spend time together, even if years have passed in between, we can still pick up right where we left off like it was yesterday. Kendra is the one who will always be there. To love Kendra is to love her whole family. They are all very close, loving, and riotously funny. Seriously, don’t spend an evening with them unless you’re prepared to be laughed to tears and leave with a belly that is sore from laughter. It’s a guarantee. Since I’ve moved far away from the small rural community where I grew up there hasn’t been a visit that I can remember when I didn’t spend an evening with the Thompsons. Joan and Paul are always excited to hear my stories of adventure and patiently sit through my (often lengthy) show-and-tell slideshows. That alone qualifies them as saints!

A few years ago I got a call from Kendra that Paul had been diagnosed with Lymphoma. The first year after the diagnosis was a good one for Paul. He kicked butt and stayed healthy. This year was different. Paul got sick. Eventually the cancer took over. But even until the very end Paul said (and knew) that he would “be okay.” Monday I received word that Paul was admitted to intensive care in Iowa City. I sent Kendra a message to let her know she was in my thoughts and to give him a squeeze from me. I needed him to know that he had made a difference in my life. That I loved him. Tuesday evening Kendra called me with the news that Paul had left us. That he was no longer in pain and now with loved ones who had gone on before and were waiting for him on the other side. Kendra also said (multiple times in that short conversation) “Brooke, he really thought the world of you.” Even typing that I fill with emotion. To know such a great man who has impacted my life and inspired a belief in myself could think so much of a kid like me.

Wednesday morning, as soon as I was awake enough for my brain to function, I heard Kendra’s voice say, “Brooke, he really thought the world of you.” I also recalled several acts of kindness shown to me by Joan and Paul in my own times of need and grief. It was immediately without question that I was to be there for the services to honor Paul’s life. I called Kendra that morning, she told me when the services would be, and I made my own arrangements to get back to Iowa for the weekend. I wanted to be there for my friend, her family, and to honor the memory of Paul.

Paul was the kind of guy who rooted for the underdog. Take me for example. Paul saw something in me that he believed in. He always reminded me of that. Including the last evening we spent together over Thanksgiving. He reminded me that there was something bigger out there for me. I trusted him. His words in that conversation have repeated themselves to me many times in the two weeks that have passed since then. I made a life decision based on the advice he offered that night. Paul was a man of conviction. A man who believed. He believed in people. He believed in God. I’m honored that the universe put me in the right place to see Paul one more time, just two short weeks before his passing. An impromptu trip to Iowa through two blizzards, I know now, was so that I could tell him goodbye. Though when I was telling him goodbye I didn’t truly believe it was for the last time. I’m glad now that when I hugged him good bye I held him for a few extra seconds that time. I’m glad now that Joan got the camera out and took pictures of Kendra, Paul and I on the couch together even though Kendra and I made so much fun of her for it. I’m glad little Briar came two months early so that Paul could spend that precious time with him. Paul was the same as a dad to me and he loved me like I was one of his own girls. I am honored to be loved by the Thompsons.

Paul, I hope that you can see from wherever you are that you left quite the legacy. I know I’m not the only kid whose life you have touched. I know I’m not the only kid who believed in myself because you believed so much in me. The belief in myself that you gave to me is why I turned out. It’s why I’ve made it. Because you believed in me and you never let me forget that. Thank you for that gift. Thank you for leaving a legacy of love.