Wednesday, January 19, 2005

A Blog That's A Little Depressing but Also A Little Uplifting

Aaron Marrs died this weekend.

Last night at a gathering of some of the people who knew him, someone mentioned that everyone felt like they could call Aaron one of their best friends; that's just the kind of guy he was.

Aaron loved everyone. Last night was proof. People from all walks of life came to tell stories about a man who will be remembered first and foremost as a Man of God. A vast of backgrounds, ethnicities, struggles, and beliefs joined together to recount stories about Aaron, what he meant to them, and the impact he made on their lives.

I heard about Aaron's ship going down in the waters of the Bering Strait on Saturday night. Immediately I joined the network of friends who were already scouring the internet for more information. IM became our conference call and Google was our home base. "Have you heard anything new?" "I just found this out." "Check out this article." "Are you OK?"

Leave it to Aaron to bring everyone together. His parties were always jam-packed full of fun people to hang out with and they gathered once again to remember the man who loved everyone and helped us all laugh a little harder, care a little more, and give of ourselves more freely. He was a storyteller like no other and his tales always left you laughing so hard you were crying.

I can't even express what a great guy Aaron was. Sure, when someone is gone people go on and on about what a good person they were but Aaron was one of the few people that others raved about when he was still around. My only regret with Aaron is that I didn't get to spend more time with him.

I'm extremely grateful for the time we DID get to share together. And when I see him again on the other side, I'll be the first in line to hear HIS version of what he's been up to. Initially it seems so sad that I won't see Aaron again in this lifetime, but as I think back to the gathering and recall the faces who were there to recount their stories with Aaron, I realize that he never really left us.