Randy

Back in May of 2016, I was on an email thread with five friends where we were sharing our bucket lists. Folks shared their goals and dreams, we commented on commonalities, we cheered each other on, and then we left it at that. Or so I thought.

Four months later, without any notice, our friend Randy reactivated the email thread. He had noticed that three of us had included the northern lights on our list, and his email started with, “Hi, Bucket List fans! One of the secrets of life is to enjoy the present while keeping your dreams alive for the future. In that regard, we can fan the flames of our dreams through our bucket lists! I have been thinking about and researching the Northern Lights…” Within a matter of days, everyone jumped on board and just like that, our pipe dream to see the northern lights changed from a dream to an imminent reality – and became a trip full of memories that I will always cherish. 

And that was Randy – always cheering everyone on, always ready with a smile, always ready to see the best in others, always game for any adventure, whether big or small, always in awe of the world in which he lived, always ready with a question (or 12!) to create thoughtful conversation, and always ready to help those he loved achieve their dreams. 

My decision to run a marathon in the fall of 2015 was one of the best decisions I could have made – because it introduced me to many lifelong friends, one of whom was Randy. I can say with confidence and without hyperbole that if I hadn’t met Randy, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. Randy taught me how to do life better, how to live more fully, and how to be a better person. He showed me the importance of (in no particular order and not a exhaustive list):

• Unwavering support for your tribe – When an old injury flared up at mile 7 in our marathon together, I gave up all thoughts of a decent time and told Randy he could go ahead. His response? “Not if there was $100,000 waiting for me at the finish line would I leave you.” 
• Making people feel seen and loved – he was the king of sending a thoughtful email or text to make sure you knew that someone was sending you some love that day.
• Encouraging others, even when it’s inconvenient – Randy surprised me and drove 4 hours each way to cheer me on at my first marathon. (This was so important to him that one of his goals in 2017 was to help other people reach their goals.)
• Finding excuses to celebrate – One year, he planned an Easter egg/scavenger hunt in July and during covid, he planned a virtual dance party because, why not?
• Being creative – Randy gathered a group to run 56 fifty-six yard sprints to celebrate his 56th birthday! For his 57th, we gathered at Kenan Stadium to do 57 reps of different exercises he had chosen. 
• Gratitude – Randy took nothing for granted and was constantly amazed by the smallest of things, like a bright red leaf in the peak of fall. 
• Joy – He radiated joy and he unapologetically shared that with others.
• Celebrating the big (and little things) – After we ran the City of Oaks marathon, we “celebrated” a few different ways, all thought up by Randy.
• Generosity – One of the ways we celebrated that race was to go to Food Lion and Randy paid for a family’s groceries that afternoon. 
• Showing up – Randy always showed up. Whether it was my graduation from my master’s program or our monthly 6 am runs before work, he was there. 
• Intentionality – He was always absolutely present in every conversation and intentional with what he asked. Period. 
• Creating community – Whether it was email newsletters to support our running group, planning events like an annual holiday run or a rock climbing afternoon, or organizing book club, Randy was a pro at getting people together and building community. 
• Being young at heart – One year I spent Thanksgiving with Randy and Robin. There was a giant pile of leaves outside and once I noted offhandedly that I had never jumped in a pile of leaves, Randy quickly decided we needed to make that happen.  
• Setting goals – Randy was a master goal setter, in all areas. 
• Discipline – Not only did he set goals, but he kept himself accountable towards making progress towards them.
• Finding ways to challenge yourself – there are too many examples here to just list one.
• Humility – I don’t think I ever heard him brag about himself once – he was too focused on getting the other person to talk about his accomplishments (I didn’t learn he had a master’s or went back to school for a second bachelor’s until at least a year into knowing him).
• Doing things a bit differently – more than once, I got flowers or a package in mid-June around Randy’s birthday; he decided to send gifts to other people on his own birthday!

I have 957 emails from Randy. The very first email he ever sent me had the subject line of “Welcome: This is where you accomplish your goals” and truly, I don’t think there is any better introduction to the man that was Randy. These emails range from reminders for our running group that he sent out, a personal newsletter he sent out to share his thoughts and highlight the achievements of his friends, emails where he pushed me (and others) to follow our dreams, random thoughts, quotations, and wisdom, a song or video he wanted to share, commentary on books, and discussion back and forth on a myriad of topics. Every single one of those 957 emails radiates love, intentionality, and thoughtfulness. While it hurts to know that I’ll never get a 958th email, one of many things that Randy and I shared was a strong faith, and I’m comforted in knowing that not only is he no longer in pain, but I’m sure he is also somewhere else, in awe of everything around him and having the best time.

Randy once wrote to me, “Life isn’t a dress rehearsal, and time goes by quickly.” He sure lived his life as though it was opening night every day, and he held nothing back. I think I might add another item to my bucket list – to live each day a bit more like Randy did.

Rest in peace, friend. I love you. 

Δ

I’m not the biggest fan of change. More specifically, I’m not the biggest fan of transitions. I love once I’ve transitioned: when I’ve set up a new routine, I feel more stable and established, and I’m more situated in what I’m doing. The act of change? It hasn’t quite always been my strong suit, to be honest. 

And yet, within the next seven months, I’ll be starting a new job, getting married, and moving in with said (future) husband. There’s lots of change a-coming in the not so distant future – so much so that I decided the other day that 2023 has become the year of the delta. No, this isn’t a post about my dog, but rather, what she represents for me. 

Occasionally I get asked how Delta’s name came to be. I usually start by explaining that delta is the symbol for change – and that’s enough to bore the person asking, who then cuts me off and changes the topic, lest I start lecturing about calculus or Greek. I spent a long time thinking about a name for a dog before I adopted her. Names are powerful. They identify us, they give us a sense of who we are, and they can make us feel welcomed. I knew I wanted my dog’s name to have some sort of meaning, I just wasn’t quite sure what. At that point, I was in therapy and my therapist had recently helped me identify why I struggle with transitions: most of them in my life weren’t happy changes. The change my family underwent when my parents split; leaving for college, where I really struggled my first year to find community and friendship; moving from San Diego to rural North Carolina where I knew no one and where I was thrown into situations that were way over my head, and so on. Honestly, it seems so straightforward when I list it out that it’s almost silly I needed someone else’s help to figure that out – but the beauty of having someone on the outside looking into our life is they bring a fresh perspective to things. 

So here I was, five or six months into the pandemic, going through yet another painful and difficult transition as the world shut down, and I was thinking about getting a dog. That was the point when I decided that I didn’t want to be victim to transitions and change any more; I wanted to take control of them and turn them into something positive, something that I could use to better myself. So, in addition to being a very cuddly and energetic companion, Delta, by very nature of her name, reminds me that change can be good. Change can be powerful, and change can be something to appreciate and even look forward to. 

Which brings me to my current situation – I have three rather large changes coming up this year, and I couldn’t be more excited. Professionally, I’ve been ready for a change for a good while and this will be an opportunity that I’m sure will push me and will likely be very difficult – and I’m so here for it. I’m ready for the challenge and I’m excited to grow again professionally.

Personally, I honestly can’t believe how much has changed in these past few years. Meeting someone like Tom and looking at how our relationship has progressed just astounds me. He’s everything I wanted in a partner, and then so much more. Some days I just stare at him in awe and thank God for all the little (and big) pieces along both of our paths that had to line up for us to meet. 

So it’s a year of change. A year of transitions. A year of delta – in more ways than one.