Sadly the last time I updated this blog was the same time last year... perhaps this will get me going again because I do miss writing.
4 years ago today Dave Hildebrandt passed away at the age of 29. Looking back at my previous posts, as I write a little reflection at this time every year, I have spoken a lot about his actions and our relationship when he was coaching me at Newbury. I figured it would be a good change of pace to talk a little bit more about the present and how his influence still plays a role in my life to this day (and most likely will until the day I too pass).
I rarely talk about religion: I will not change that with this post. However, I will say that after doing some soul-searching I found myself living by the mantra 'No regrets: It is too late. No worries: It is too soon'. I have been known to stretch myself out a little too thin at times - that is largely in part to the wake-up call upon Dave's passing that tomorrow's promised to no one, regardless of how young you are. I don't fear death: I do fear having my last thought be the realization that I could have done more before leaving.
When I first heard the news about Dave, I was pretty numb to it: Calls began pouring in asking if I was OK. I brushed them off politely as if it wasn't a big deal - but when I first stepped back on campus, I found myself wandering aimlessly in-between classes as normally I'd probably kill time in 'The Dungeon' as we called his office. During the remainder of my time at Newbury I still passed through that office when going to classes as a semi-tribute to him (The young female that replaced him probably just thought I had a crush on her - which I did - but consider that reason 1a that I would pass through each day). I played it off when I was with people but I'd go back to my room feeling very angry and having a lot of questions about why things happened the way they did.
The sad reality is, as long as I'm alive I'll never know why he had to leave us so early: What I finally came to terms with (with the help of a couple people that I was lucky to have as a support group) is that during his time he changed my life for the better in SO many ways, and had I not been graced with his presence I don't know where I'd be today, but odds are it wouldn't have been pretty. And while he may not be able to continue to change lives in the flesh, his life lessons can be passed on through the rest of us whose lives he touched. Since his passing, I have taken every opportunity possible to see the best in people and make sure that they know any ceiling they put on their abilities (volleyball or anything else for that matter) are self-imposed. I try focusing on the positive and appreciate every day I have here - while I don't fear death I constantly find myself reminded that you never know what tomorrow will bring your way.
There's a scene at the end of Saving Private Ryan where an elder Private Ryan looks at his wife while visiting the grave of his mentor and tells her to tell him he's lived a good life. While I'm hopefully a long way from that point, I can't help but relate in some ways. I find myself able to battle the anger from his death by trying to pass on the lessons he taught me both on and off the court - knowing other people are able to get the same results it a little easier knowing that he still lives on in me and everyone else that he served as a mentor.
I'm rambling now... Time to wrap it up. Simply put: I get jaw drops when people find out I was a soft-spoken insecure 20 year old that had an average-at-best work ethic. Meeting Coach Dave was a pivotal moment in my life to change all of that. It was a privilege to have known him even if for a short time-period, and I'll take/share his life lessons until I hopefully see him again.
Rest in Peace Dave - I hope I make you proud. Never forgotten.
