I met Gary last fall when I signed up for St. Michael’s Education for Ministry program. Gary was gracious and welcoming to me - the only non-Episcopalian in the four year program.
This is what I know about Gary. He was kind, and the older I get the more I feel kindness is the most important thing. The most important thing.
Gary was unselfish. He gave his time away: Mentoring our weekly classes, teaching children’s classes at St. Michael’s. Helping with fundraisers for the Humane Society. Being very present in his children’s lives and his grandchildren’s lives. Gary was not the most important person in his life, because he knew the Way of Jesus.
He knew the Way of Jesus.
I sat in that beautiful cathedral and my daughter slid closer to me to hold my hand as I cried. Someone was playing the organ and it filled the space - a memorial for Gary right there in the Basque Country.
The world is hard and sad and tragic and cruel. Yet in the middle of all that, it is also a daughter holding onto her mom while she cries. It is friends sending messages of love and praying via text (yes that is a thing). It’s a neighbor offering to walk your dog when you’re sick. It’s a smile from the person in line next to you at the grocery store. It’s taking kids to the ice cream shop on the last day of school and listening to their giggles and trying to understand six year old David’s jokes, which almost never make sense.
Life is heartwrenching and cruel, and it is beautiful and sweet. It is glorious but rarely easy.
I will remember Gary, and I will remember his kindness.
