People, Stories...

Many of my dreams include a cast of characters, all known to me yet foreign to each other. Everyone is from a different chapter of my life and I usually wake up asking myself how in the world this one particular person I knew for a few months fourteen years ago can be a part of the same story with friends I currently share life with. It's generally a pleasant experience, one that might be nice to see how it works out in the real world. I know it's a little narcissistic, but I'd love to be a fly on the wall when some of my childhood friends walked up to someone I became close with later in life and asks "And where do you know Craig from?" Then the stories will flow and at the end the listener responds with a laughter filled "Yeah-- That sounds like Craig!!"

It's all about me, isn't it?

I've been thinking about how I remember Kyle and how my memory differs from others. Woltorstorff (who I've quoted endlessly over the past year and a half) said that after the death of someone close we say things like "This is how he was," or "This is what he would have wanted." As time goes on "how he was" and "what he would have wanted" begins to look an awful lot like how we are and what we want. We all have our favorite version of those we love, and will fiercely protect it in light of the memory of others.

I'm trying to be more intentional about letting others tell their stories when it comes to Kyle. At least once a week I'll meet someone new who finds out I go to UBC and will say "Oh, I knew Kyle. He was a friend of mine." For a while I got a little defensive when I'd hear this, because I'd never heard of this person, and would need to tell them that he was my closest friend, almost daring them to top that. But I've come to realize that as close as we were, I only knew him the last five years of his life. He had friends and stories he had yet to tell me about. I'm getting to the point now where I want to hear those stories. I NEED to hear those stories, so I'll have a continual reminder of who this amazing person I called "friend" was.

This has also caused me to want to tell friends from one corner of my life about those from other corners. Part of it is to prove how many friends I have, top that. But mostly I want you to know all the ingredients that make up my life. You can't know me unless you know "my people."

And I want you to know my people. So, periodically, over the next few weeks, I plan on introducing you to my friends and family through my blog. Sometimes (as in the case with family) this will be difficult, but regardless I'm going to push through.

(I'm actually borrowing this from something Blake did a few years ago.)

I hope you will do the same. Tell each other's stories. In the process I believe you'll discover yourself.

_____________________
P.S.-- Carney has posted pictures of the Happy Hour I spoke of a few days ago on HIS BLOG.