I’ve just lost one of the greatest people I’ve ever known…and I know just what I’m going to do…

I believe in good and evil. That’s clear if you’ve read any of my novels. But based on my broad sample of people while travelling around the world, including Africa, South America, Europe, Asia, and across the US, I also believe most people in the world are good. Regardless of their geography, race, religious beliefs or economic standing. I think that goodness comes in the form of actions and words that touch others and create a blanket of goodness that most times connects and comforts all of us. When evil pierces that blanket, like a jagged blade, it’s shocking and jarring and by its very nature it sticks out and, in some form, injures us and commands our attention. Just look at the evening news. On the other hand, the collective goodness around us can be pervasive and taken for granted, like the air we breathe and the earth we walk on.

Then there are those precious few people whose goodness is so genuine and abundant, I can’t help admiring what they do. I’m filled with gratitude that they are here among us and I have a sense of joy in their presence. They are the fabric of that blanket of goodness that comforts me. My friend, my brother-in-law, who died a few hours ago, was one of those people. You haven’t read about him or seen him on TV or the internet. That’s the magic of these people. They quietly go about weaving their goodness with no ego, no agenda and no thought of recognition.

I met him eighteen years ago, and he’s always been the same. He’s a father who always greeted his children and grandchildren with a smile and who built their home with his own two hands. A home that is always full and alive with humor and love. He’s a husband who honored and valued his wife. He’s a brother, who always had time for his seven brothers and sisters. I can’t think of an instant where he said a bad word about someone or even threw the occasional verbal dart at anyone, even if they deserved it. He was a friend who would share anything with you, as if you were the only other person on this earth. At the same time, he was a man. A man who I admired. A man who set an example…for his daughters…for his son…for his relatives… and for his friends.

For the last six years, just like the twelve before that, his goodness hasn’t wavered. That’s despite having ALS. Even in the face of that horrible disease, I never saw an ounce of bitterness or anger, just that abundant goodness.

Now he’s gone. And that blanket of goodness that comforts me and the world has a gaping hole in it. And as I sat broken hearted in the dark abyss of loss, his smile came back to me and gave me hope. Maybe, just maybe, I can try to be more like the father and husband he was. Maybe I can battle my ego and share a little more of the goodness he shared so selflessly with me and everyone around him. And maybe those who knew him might do the same. Then stitch by stitch, we’ll start to mend the hole in that blanket of goodness left by the departure of the greatest man I’ve ever known.