A life with meaning...when a friend dies

This really doesn't have much to do with reinventing yourself...but it does have to do with having a life that matters.

I just attended the funeral of an old friend who died at the age of 44. Reggie was a Baptist Missionary minister - the kind you see in movies. Hell, fire, brimstone and passion. I met him in graduate school and we ended up interning at the same clinic. No one could get me more riled up than Reggie and vice versa. It was both a combative and loving friendship. He believed I was doomed to go to hell; I believed he was a nutcase. We were both okay with our views of each other.

During our internship Reggie developed prostate cancer. It was his second time. We (clinic staff and interns)rallied 'round Reggie, supporting him any way we could. He'd often mentioned to us that the men in his family died young. He was willing to accept his fate if it was "God's will" but he wasn't going to roll over and wait for it to happen. He prevailed. He flew through his chemo, cleaned up his eating habits and recommitted himself to Christ and his family. After the internship ended, I lost track of Reggie. We both were members of the same board of directors for an inner city housing organization - but he never came to meetings. Occasionally his name would pop up - but mostly in the "Has anyone heard from Reggie?' vein.

Two days ago I received a call from my former internship supervisor. "Have you heard about Reggie?" she asked. "He died on Sunday. Right after giving his sermon. He just sat down next to his wife and died."

If you're old enough to be at the point in your life when friends and others you've known start dying then you know what I felt. I got quiet and in my head a brief video of Reggie suddenly began playing. Reggie sitting next to me in class - neither of us paying attention. Reggie at the clinic nose to nose with an addict who was trying to BS his way through group (Reggie always confronted BS), Reggie at staff meetings voicing his strong opinions. Gone. At 44.

Today I attended his funeral. I had to park 4 blocks from the church. I had to stand in line for 20 minutes to view the body. There were at least 1000 people there - paying their respects. I learned that Reggie's "lost to me" years were spent reviving an inner city church, helping lost kids find their way, evangelizing to any and all who would give him a second of their time. I learned he was planning to go to Africa next week for more evangelizing. He had gone back to school and gotten another theological degree and was working towards his doctorate. He was living his life at full steam. And his life had had meaning, real honest-to-God meaning. Honoring his life was a true celebration of the incredible young man he was. A man with a purpose, a deep passion and an enviable love of God.

As I clapped my hands to the incredibly awesome gospel music provided by his Church choir I realized that he had found what so many of us seek. He had realized his dream and owned his power. His life humbles me. I am proud to have known him.

Good bye dear Reggie. Sleep well.