Life has a way of getting in the way. Not the good aspects of life, but the responsibilities, the worries, the stress of just surviving in a world that seems determined to grind us down. Those things weigh on us, keep us from doing the things we enjoy and seeing the ones we love. We always think that things will change, that at some point life will settle down and we will have time. It rarely does. But every once in a while, a small memorable moment can happen. My memories of Tim are a series of those small moments: an impromptu glow-stick dance party at Tim and Karen’s house on 4th of July, Tim telling stories of his African adventures after Thanksgiving dinner, drinking Irish Car Bombs on St. Patrick’s Day. I wish I had more of those moments, more time to just hang out with Tim. To go on that camping trip we talked about for years but never happened. To sit around a fire, drinks in hand, just chatting about the world and sharing stories.
It makes me sad that I allowed life to get in the way of spending more time with a man I loved and admired. A man who made my sister so happy and was such a great dad to my nephew Dylan. Tim was quiet and reserved, but when he had something to say, he could command a room. We all could not get enough of his stories. I want to imagine that when I go for a walk in the woods, surrounded by the natural world Tim loved so much, that if I just take the time to stop and listen, he will tell me some more tales and remind me to take a moment to enjoy the beauty all around us and ponder the mysteries of life.