In Memorium, Scott Swanson (1973-2010)

Swanson & I at a wedding, many moons ago.
Man, we looked young. And I still have that tie.

An old friend of mine, Scott Swanson, died this past Monday. He was born sick, and had kind of a wry sense of humor about that fact that his doctors routinely predicted he would be lucky to make it to 20. He lived to be 36. Still, his passing was still somewhat surprising as I guess I'd started to take it for granted that he generally seemed to be okay.

We were definitely kindred spirits in that we were both grumpy old men long before our time. Scott was probably more entitled to his grumpiness, but I also think he was much less sincere about it. Grumpy people don't touch people the way Scott did. Grumpy people don't spend so much time helping others, even while they themselves suffer.

I've been trying to find a way to express this loss. I can remember a tour of Sherman's during a particularly low point in graduate school. During an even lower point in my life later, I can remember Swanson demanding that I come out with him in the city instead of wallowing at home. I remember standing with him and Peil on Gail's balcony the following New Year's, when life was back on track. I remember him acting like a proud papa I remember many a late-night IM chat.

Scott and I were never best friends, and I imagine that that's mostly my fault. We would go long stretches where we would just lose touch. But he was the epitome of what any friend ought to be. No matter how long it had been, he always managed to be there right when I needed a friend the most. I will forever regret that we lost touch over the last couple years - a function of the fact that when my life gets full I find it too easy to discard people. I will always have to live with the fact that I never got around to calling him while he was lucid these last couple of months. I always convinced myself I'd be able to call him later. Hopefully I will learn to not take anyone for granted, and to remember that the person I brush off today might not be here next week.

I think that the best any of us can hope for is that, when our time comes, someone will miss us, will care when we're gone. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have found and married Kate. I never realized until this week how comforting, how affirming, it is to have someone beside you that you know with absolute certainty will care when you're gone. We should all be so lucky as to be missed by one tenth of the people that will miss Scott.

Rest well, brother. Lord knows you deserve it. I'll see you in the next life.