Wise words from a wise friend
HodgePodge by Charlie Hodge
My good friend Greg wrote this (12 years ago) about his buddy Steve who’d died a week before. I share it with you because, well, it speaks for itself. Steve played the Night of the Arts a few years back, (a fundraiser concert) partied in our basement afterwards, and shared my life for a few brief hours. Thanks Steve. Thanks Greg.
A few days ago I received a phone call letting me know my dear friend, Steve had passed away.
It didn’t hit me at first. Didn’t feel true. But a few hours later it started to sink in. Everyone processes grief differently and to be honest, I don’t like to think about it. Much less post about it on Facebook. It hurts. I’d rather pretend everything is good and normal. And I guess in a strange sense, it is still normal. This is life as usual. We just never think it will be us, or someone close to us. Steve was on a journey. The same journey you and I are on. I don’t mean to be a downer, but Steve’s journey reminds me that we are all on our death beds. It’s only a matter of time. Could be tomorrow. Could be 50 years from now.
Although Steve initially started out as just my ‘guitar player’, Steve quickly became one of the truest friends I have ever had.
He believed in me when the songs weren’t climbing any radio charts. When the phones weren’t ringing. When I could count on my two hands the people who really believed in me and my dreams. When I was so close to throwing in the towel and getting a “real job”. Steve believed in those dreams more than I did sometimes.
Oftentimes when someone passes away, everyone says really nice things about them (some of which probably aren’t true). “He was a good man”. But although Steve wasn’t perfect (no one is), his character doesn’t require any embellishment.
Steve always saw the glass half full. Every gig was our best gig yet. Even when I had a feeling it might be our worst! When the promoter dropped the ball, or the gear malfunctioned, when I was sick or tensions in the band were high, Steve was always the one with a big grin, a big hug and some over-confident statement about how “we are gonna kill it.” Every day was a party for Steve. He loved the hang. When everyone else wanted to go to bed after a long night and an exhausting show, Steve was rearing to go. Didn’t matter where, but usually we ended up at Boston Pizza, where Steve would order (without fail) a Pecan Chicken Salad. Don’t worry, it wasn’t as healthy as it sounds.
Even in the last few months of his life, Steve was a joy to be around. Only once did I witness a frustrated, broken side of my friend trying to come to grips with a body that was deteriorating, while his mind was sharper than ever. If it were me, I couldn’t have been that strong. I couldn’t have been that positive. But Steve didn’t let his condition rob him of the one thing he could still control – his Joy. The last time I saw Steve, he and the family were decorating their tree for the holidays in November. They were going to make the most of Christmas he said. And that’s how Steve lived. He made the most of life.
As much as I’m writing this to honour Steve, I’m writing it for me. For you. You only get one shot. It may only be 30-something years. Please don’t throw it away. Please don’t settle for anything less than your optimal potential. Please forgo the good and reach for the best. Be “unrealistic” with your dreams and remember the handful of people who stood behind you as you start to see your hard work pay off. And when life breaks your body and your heart, because it will, remember that it is just a blessing to be here, part of this crazy spinning globe. We never asked for it, we did nothing to earn it. It hurts like hell sometimes, but that’s how we learn to appreciate Heaven.
I’m preaching to myself here, but it begs to be repeated. LIVE your life. Make it count. Don’t skim read your story. Jump in with both feet. Choose love. Choose wisdom. Choose to be fully alive. Make mistakes. Get messy. Love without conditions – as you would want to be loved.
Ask the difficult questions no one else is asking, rather than just suppressing them with filler TV, drinks or quick flings. Dig deep. Repair those broken relationships. This life is beautiful. It is hard. That’s part of what makes it beautiful. And it is short.
I’m going to do the same. For myself, for my family, for Steve, for my Creator. It’s time to get messy. Break some rules. Cause a commotion. Make some memories. Love people recklessly. Invest in what matters. Leave a legacy.
In the words of my dear friend, Steve ,”We are gonna kill it,” Greg wrote.
And now, Greg, you have humbled HodgePodge. I am so humbled by your honesty and wisdom and clear truth. Thank you – to you and so many!
