If you haven’t heard, and also knew him, I have very bad news. Rick Hixenbaugh, whose house I stayed in for the period just before my last trip east, was killed in a boating accident May 20.
Rick and Linda generously opened their home in a time when I was stressed beyond belief and salved a very hard time for me. Although I’d known him for years, it was in these four weeks (or was it more?) that I really came to appreciate him. Rick was a man who lived life fully, perhaps more than anyone else I’ve known as well.
I wish I could imitate his way of always being present.
But now he is not present, ever. Except in our memories. Rick would be the first to wish us only fond ones. And, almost magically, those are all most of us will have of Rick, for that’s the kind of man he was; hence not like magic at all.
The world is a lessor place today.
Yet he, more than anyone, would be the first to say, “Ahhh, what a lovely day. Let’s go sailing.”
I wish I could learn to be present, always, like Rick was.