I wrote last night about a friend in ICU. Tonight I write to say my friend, David Gentiles, died earlier this evening with his daughters gathered around him. I’ve been staring at the computer screen for a couple of hours looking for words and have come up empty. My friend is gone: my heart hurts, my mind struggles to comprehend what has happened. David was one of the Good Guys – no, one of the Great Guys, a person who lived with passion and intentionality, grace and integrity, unflappable hope (after all, he was a Cleveland Indians fan) and tenacious love. You can get a good picture of him by watching this.
And now he is not here. And I am.
Just before I got the news, I finished reading A Circle of Quiet and found this in the closing paragraphs:
Gregory of Nyssa points out that Moses’ vision of God began with the light, with the visible burning bush, the bush which was bright with fire and was not consumed; but afterwards, God spoke to him in a cloud. After the glory which could be seen with human eyes, he began to see the glory which is beyond and after light.
The shadows are deepening all around us. Now is the time when we must begin to see our world and ourselves in a different way. (246)
The clouds of grief and sorrow now descended, I pray for eyes to see what lies beyond and after both light and loss. Our world is a little dimmer tonight.