Writing for Wheatgrass Dave

I'm not sure how I want this post to come out, but I'm just going to start writing anyways and see where it takes me.

Wheatgrass Dave

I'm going to start simply by saying that my very good friend "Wheatgrass Dave" passed away on Thursday night.  Wheatgrass was the guy in Vancouver, and really the only guy in all of western Canada, who grew and sold wheatgrass (hence the nickname).  Yep, any of you who have ever had a shot of wheatgrass at Jugo Juice, Capers, or any where else in the city - that was all his doing.  Every last straw of nutritional goodness you've downed, or will continue to down, has been because of him.  He started up his business probably close to 20 years ago and has been building upon it ever since.  Always the type of guy who wanted a one-on-one relationship with his customers, he spent his time between driving all over the lower mainland to personally deliver trays of wheatgrass to his clients, and the remainder of his time on growing, planting and feeding new crops of wheatgrass every single day.  Wheatgrass was his baby.  I remember when he was still growing it from home on his back patio, and finally the City of Vancouver came in and told him he had to get a proper warehouse for his business.  It was quite the switch for him moving from the convenience of working on his passion right from the comforts of his own home, and into a vacant warehouse in industrial Vancouver. But it actually turned out to be a real blessing because his business boomed and he was totally prepared for it.  Dave was a freedom-seeking, ultra-zaney Aquarian who I met through our mutual friend, Brenda, probably back in 1997 or 1998.  Our friendship grew naturally and mostly started out by sharing our love for Wreck Beach and participating in physical fitness of any form.  I remember time and time again calling him up excitedly and saying "Hey Dave, are ya going to the beach?", and he'd be respond just as exuberantly "Yeah, I'm heading down right now!  Need a lift?"  And he'd come by and pick me up in his big blue van and together we'd zoom up to the beach and then practically run down the stairs and let out a simultaneous sigh of relief as soon as our feet hit the sand.  Time with Dave was always play time, and he put everything he had into perfecting his physical being.  Super trippy, some people would initially be taken aback by Dave's intensity, but then inevitably would come to admire and respect him because he was such a warm, loving, hippy kind of dude with a super high level of intelligence that no one could deny.  Dave could actually see the energy of a turning ball or a floating disk, and he really loved analyzing it, working on his skill, and then perfecting it in a physical way.  Then he'd tell everyone about his journey, and only some of us could follow his wavelength.  Dave wasn't a big guy, but he was still a force to be reckoned with during the old days of "Beer Ball", because he was so strong and confident in his own body.  Dave was also the guy that brought paddle ball to the beach.  I've never seen another person who could play it as well as he did, not even on any of the beaches in Europe where the game is so popular.  He taught me everything I know about the game, and because of his coaching and friendship, I was one of the first female players on the beach.  Yep, we played in the nude!  It was awesome!  Heck, we even played paddle ball fully-clothed during the winter months, happily analyzing and comparing the grip of our feet on the wintery wet grass to the way our toes could sink into the sizzling summery sand.  We threw the disk, we log-hopped, we stretched, we juggled, we laughed and made up games as we went along, loving the feel of the sunshine on our clothing-free skin.  Our outlook on life was fresh, youthful, deep.  Our other friend Andrew, another Aquarian and an amazing musician, rounded off our threesome and it was almost like we were the "Three Musketeers".  I remember how the three of us acted like happy school kids whenever we were together, our conversation would float between wild and zaney to spirituality or political rebellion, then we'd break into fits of laughter from inside jokes that only the three of us could understand, causing those around us to blink and say "Uh, did I miss something?"  Keeping up with an Aquarian's conversation is a difficult task at the best of times, but keeping up with three of them??  I smile when I remember how fantastic it was to be together.  When the tide went out far we'd all run out to the sand and throw the disk around together.  Then we'd laugh and play like circus clowns all the way back to our beach blankets.  Andrew would break out his guitar and soothe us with sweet tenor voice, Dave would quench us by handing us each an an icy-cold beer, and I would nurture us by opening a bowl of summer berries and healthy snack food (always vegan for Dave!).  Then we'd philosophize long into the hot, lazy summer afternoons and howl at the setting sun.  Heck, the three of us even looked the same!  All shorter and slim in stature and with dark hair, we were definitely Elemental brothers and sister.  I have some great photos of us from back in those days, but unfortunately I can't post them because they are still in the old version 4x6 in albums somewhere in storage.  We took care of one another, we were best friends, we were family.  I remember one rainy winter night, a mutual friend called me up in need of desperate help, and I replied "Hold on, we'll be right there!"  It just went without saying that we could speak for one another.  I called Dave and together we sped over to help out our friend in need.  We went with our own flow, and with Dave it was like living in another world.  For the next three years Dave, Andrew and I were almost inseparable, and we really grew to love one another deeply. 

All things come to an end, so they say.  One day Dave and I  pushed our love too far, and had an arguement about something so friggin' stupid I won't even mention it here.  Let's just say that we were both equally stubborn, and Dave had the tendency to be almost militant in his views, assuming that everyone should do and say exactly as he did, because he was so evolved and educated.  Okay, Dave was definitely evolved and educated.  But I'm sure many of you know that I don't like being told what to do.  Neither of us were going to budge an inch on our positions.  Our argument was so heated that I think we kindof shocked ourselves and never fully recovered from it.  Our relationship started to rapidly slide downhill, then Dave moved out to Burnaby, got a steady girlfriend (Leslie, who has been with him ever since), and started to withdraw from the beach.  Andrew and I didn't see him for years, no one really did it seems.  And now we learn that Dave had been battling throat cancer for close to a year and a half!  Finally on Tuesday night he checked into the hospital, and two nights later he left his beaten up body and this planet all behind.  We heard about it on Friday and I was in shock for most of the day, not believing that our super-healthy Wheatgrass Dave could have been sick at all!  Apparently he had lost his ability to talk and to swallow, but he was adamant about not letting anyone know he was sick.  If I had known, I for sure would have been there by his side as much as possible, and I know Andrew would have too.  Well dammit, everyone would have.  Dave had a ton of friends and I'm sure they are all shaking their heads in disbelief, just like I am now.  If they are like me, they are only just starting to succumb to the shock of it all and just starting to realize that he is gone.  It took me several hours, but late Friday night it hit me like a large wave, almost like Dave was sitting right there with me and had come by to say good bye.  I heard his voice and envisioned him in my mind's eye walking across the room towards me, smiling like he used to, saying "Hey Char!!"... I held my head and then sent an S.O.S. text-message to Andrew saying "Andrew, where are ya?  I need to see you...".  Andrew texted me right back, and I then I drove over for a glass of wine and we reminisced about Dave.  I wish there was some way I could have told Dave how much he meant to me, and I wish I hadn't let one stupid argument rip us apart.  I wish I could have said good bye.

Wreck Beach

Losing him makes me realize that life is just too friggin' short.  How many days have I let dark feelings blur my vision and drain the life out of me?  I realize that any negative thought I've had or unloving actions that I have inflicted upon myself, must have taken away at least a part of my life from me.  For every joyless thought or act I have had, I have lived less. 

When I was about 21 years old I lost a really good friend, tragically, to a hiking accident.  After that I vowed to never stop myself from telling people how much I cared for and loved them, no matter what.  For years I walked around mushy-like, hugging and kissing everyone, and acknowledging their greatness.  But for over a year now I haven't been that person because I've been so wrapped up in my own pain and haven't been able to give even a fraction of a cell to anyone.  I know I'm not back at that wonderfully loving and giving place.  I have definitely been taking inventory of friends lately, redefining what I consider a good friend to be and also redefining how I do friendship myself.  I don't know when or if I'll ever be who I used to be, but for now I'm going to start trying again little by little.  Because good friends can be gone in the snap of the fingers and I would never want to miss the opportunity again of telling someone how much they mean to me.  I am healthy, and that is such a huge gift and something that we all take for granted.  Dave embraced life fully, and yet he was the one who lost his way too early.  Here I am alive and healthy and not feeling life 100%.  It's time to change that. 

I took some photos of only a couple of the things that make me feel alive:

30 Minute Hit - Women's Kickboxing Workout

Ashtanga yoga at The Practice Place - Sunday morning Full Primary Series Led class, Level 3

  
A quiet tree-lined street in mature Vancouver, where I currently call home.

Another thing that makes me feel alive is learning and speaking Spanish, something that I've hardly done at all since, of course, returning to Canada.  Yesterday I joined a Meetup group and went out for coffee with about 14 other Spanish speaking individuals, both natives and Canadians, and enjoyed a nice afternoon socializing with new people in a language that I crave to know fluently.  This afternoon I'm going to get out on my bike and enjoy a rainless day and feel the wind in my hair.  If it wasn't for Dave, I wouldn't have remembered to take advantage of the simplest of blessings: BEING ALIVE!   It's time to get back into the things that I really care about.   

Dave, if you're out there and you can hear me: I'm sorry.  And I miss you.

Charleen xo