Peter, Peter
I put off visiting you and Bethany earlier last week because I was sure that I would see you at Happy Time on Friday night. 

Happy TIme - this was Peter's idea of a Friday night casual gathering at their house - usually just me, Bethany, and Peter - simply an opportunity to enjoy good food and drink and friends. Perhaps watching it was one of those warm summer nights where we could sit outside and watch the sunset as were shared the challenges and joys of the past week. I cherished this time of connection. Sometimes there were heated discussions, and occasionally tears, but most often there was laughter, lots of laughter. 

Peter created this togetherness - needless to say, Friday NIght Happy Time will never be the same. 

Peter had a few things that he was passionate about - cooking, music, gardening, and skiing. Despite his not driving for the last number of years, he somehow managed to get around and connect these passions with many, many people. His passion was infectious. The connections he made with people were so strong, family and friends were forging new friendships, even in the past week. His legacy of love and laughter persists. 

It is hard to imagine laughing at this time. Peter would often tell me and I'm sure many of you, that, "There are no coincidences." Whatever happened - it was meant to be. Especially now, that is not easy to accept, because we miss him and want him to be with us. Somehow, though we have to accept it and remember his words, "THIS WAS MEANT TO BE."

Peter - we will remember your smile, your laugh and the happiness that you brought us. As we look out to the Happy Time Sunset - we will think of you and smile, albeit with tears in our eyes.

I remember Peter as always smiling, never flustered on the MGRHS soccer team. I think he played left wing on our dynamic front line. So sad to lose him so early in life but from the pictures shared, it looked like he had a full and fruitful life.  Picture enclosed

Peter always smiled and had such an easy, joyous laugh. Peter smiled when he celebrated Jesse's accomplishments and when he saw Bethany, and he even managed to smile when he would take bad news in stride, and even when he and I didn't always agree on world affairs.

In stride, smiling -- words that come to mind as I picture Peter. The dictionary says that stride means "a step or stage in progress toward an aim." Peter was tireless, indefatigable, with his boundless energy always moving in a positive, optimistic direction. Thank you Peter, for sharing that admirable and endearing spirit with me and my family over the years.

One story that brings me a smile, and shows a bit of what I mean by his enthusiastic stride was on a not-so-good day, at a place that Peter and I (and our dogs) love.

Peter called me when he fell on the steep hill going down to the half-log bridge that spans the brook on the Bradley Trail (a spot which often has treacherous, slippery wet leaves). He had badly injured his leg. I insisted that we call an ambulance but he refused, having diagnosed (correctly) the problem with his EMT knowledge. When I got there, he was standing up using a brace that he had ingeniously created with a perfectly-sized, and straight branch, attached to his leg with his belt at one end and Sadie's leash at the other. (Sadie was surprisingly well behaved.) 

Peter again insisted that he wanted to walk, which we did, with one arm around my shoulder. I remember Peter telling me the way to get back to the visitor's center, even though I had walked it hundreds of times. We laughed and of course he smiled through all the pain. This was one of the few times I could easily keep pace with Peter's stride,

Here is a picture of the spot, where I will go today, and on many days in the future, to remember Peter.