A good weekend, for bad reasons.
My dear friend David Bartling passed away, not long ago. He was my instructor for Oceanography, in high school. It's... very hard to describe how profound an effect he had on me. And the hundreds of other students he taught over the years.
Such a profound impact that many of us gathered at his home this weekend, to pay homage. The friendships are compex, and lasting, and deep. We have grown up to be everything from tugboat captains to deepsea fishers to marine preservationists to nuclear physicists to software engineers to... a great many different paths. And all of us owed so much to what he taught us. Not just about oceanography, but about how to learn, how to appreciate what we learn, and how little we all know. All of us had a love of learning to one degree or another, but he nurtured it like none other.
And after the class we stayed friends. And for decades after, as we all moved and changed, married, divorced, remarried... some had kids, some didn't... but we stayed friends. With eachother, and most of all, with him.
Being there, at that house where I spent so much time, was so wonderful. Because though it hurt to know he was gone, and I ached to just sit and share a laugh with him one more time... his presence was so strong. In everything, and in everyone. His strength, caring, and generosity touched all of us.
And laughing and talking and drinking... sharing some incredibly good food that our classmates had caught (SO much shrimp, and incredible snapper... mmph!) ... he was right there with us, in the way that we carry him in our heads and hearts.
And so right at the crack of noon today, we boarded one of the student's boats, and went out to the sea bouy a few miles offshore, and spread his ashes, and said a final farewell. Passed the bottle around in one last toast, poured the rest out for him, as his ashes spread. Grey, spreading out in the dark blue. One, at last, with the gulf he loved so much.
Thank you, David, you old walrus. For being the most challenging teacher I ever had. And the most caring, generous man I've ever known. Thank you for everything.
Such a profound impact that many of us gathered at his home this weekend, to pay homage. The friendships are compex, and lasting, and deep. We have grown up to be everything from tugboat captains to deepsea fishers to marine preservationists to nuclear physicists to software engineers to... a great many different paths. And all of us owed so much to what he taught us. Not just about oceanography, but about how to learn, how to appreciate what we learn, and how little we all know. All of us had a love of learning to one degree or another, but he nurtured it like none other.
And after the class we stayed friends. And for decades after, as we all moved and changed, married, divorced, remarried... some had kids, some didn't... but we stayed friends. With eachother, and most of all, with him.
Being there, at that house where I spent so much time, was so wonderful. Because though it hurt to know he was gone, and I ached to just sit and share a laugh with him one more time... his presence was so strong. In everything, and in everyone. His strength, caring, and generosity touched all of us.
And laughing and talking and drinking... sharing some incredibly good food that our classmates had caught (SO much shrimp, and incredible snapper... mmph!) ... he was right there with us, in the way that we carry him in our heads and hearts.
And so right at the crack of noon today, we boarded one of the student's boats, and went out to the sea bouy a few miles offshore, and spread his ashes, and said a final farewell. Passed the bottle around in one last toast, poured the rest out for him, as his ashes spread. Grey, spreading out in the dark blue. One, at last, with the gulf he loved so much.
Thank you, David, you old walrus. For being the most challenging teacher I ever had. And the most caring, generous man I've ever known. Thank you for everything.