Remembering Friends

I was reminded this morning of someone I hadn’t thought about in 10 years.

In college I was a member of the varsity heavyweight crew. Also on the team was a guy named Mike Lacasse. Mike was two years older than me and he graduated the same year I met him, 1998. I didn’t have much time to get to know Mike, plus the context of our friendship (college athletics) didn’t really offer many opportunities to do so.

But somehow, during long bus rides to out of state regattas and the short times before and after practices, I got to connect with Mike. See Mike was one of the most genuine, most welcoming people I have ever met.

Most people (myself included) do not open up around people we don’t know, at least at first. We’re naturally a little guarded, a little reserved around others – not just strangers, but the people we share our life with. Those who are familiar, who are included, but not yet known. Teammates, classmates, work mates, neighbors, that family sitting in the same pew as us… Not strangers, but not friends.

But Mike, with Mike it was like we were friends the moment I first got near him. But we weren’t, we never became friends. I don’t know where he grew up. I don’t know what he was studying. I don’t even know what he did when he wasn’t rowing.

So how is it that without any of the background information, similarities, or shared experiences that relationships are built on I could feel close to Mike?

I don’t know.

I’m sorry, I wish I had some profound insight for you but I don’t. Mike was just a great guy.

Mike was rare. For whatever reason, consciously or subconsciously, Mike wasn’t guarded. I think he was pretty special because of that. It for sure made me feel special; made me feel like I mattered. For Mike, to Mike, I did, I mattered. I don’t know how he did it. But it was special. I wish I could be like that.

…

Mike died in 2000. He developed lymphoma in 1998 and died two years later.

I don’t know if Mike had been diagnosed yet when I met him. I don’t think so. But when he died, when we were told by our coach, I remember it hitting me really hard. Part of it was that I had recently finished treatment for my own cancer. But most of it was because Mike was a great guy and I was sad that he was dead.

I was reminded of Mike after ten years of not thinking about him because I saw a picture of a boat with his name on it. Some of Mike’s classmates and teammates pitched in a dedicated a rowing scull to the school in Mike’s honor. This year, one of my alma mater’s crews won the National Championship in that boat. That’s a great honor for a great guy.

And it’s a great reminder for me that the people in my life, who despite how short or inconsequential my time with them might be, are amazing. If I’m not willing to be vulnerable, intentional, and honest I’m never going to get to experience their awesomeness.

So I want to be like Mike… I have no idea how the hell I’m supposed to do that.

Tell me, who are the amazing people in your life that you don’t really know?