Life on Pleasant Avenue: My Friend Ken: Miss you buddy.

Me, Ken and Alice in Mexico in the Spring of 2010.

Life has a way of hitting you over the head to get you to pay attention. And sometimes it grabs at your heart and squeezes to wake you up. What's the message? I can't tell you what your's might be, but I know if you open your heart to Mother Life (God, the Universe - whatever you want to call it), she will lead you to what you need to know.

I had one of those abrupt awakenings on Thursday when I found out that my dear friend Ken passed away suddenly the previous evening. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Tom and I were going to see Ken in early August in San Francisco. That lovable, sweet guy couldn't be gone.

After I had a good cry (I was at a focus group moderator training in Rockville, MD. I let my class of 6 fantastic women know what had happened and then excused myself to let out a good cry. It doesn't do anyone any good to keep it in.), I asked myself what am I supposed to learn from this? The message came loud and clear: LIVE LIFE. There isn't always a tomorrow.

So, I'm yet again examining my life - our life - to see if we're truly doing that. Am I present? Do I love what I'm doing? Am I connecting with the people I love? Really, it boils down to prioritizing love over everything else.

Ken and I met five years ago in a two year leadership training course called the Art of Peace. Our group of nine plus our fearless guides opened up our hearts and souls to one another and now have a bond of love and trust that is beyond words. The course was based on the idea that you cannot bring peace and leadership to the world if you're not at peace with yourself. Our two years together culminated in a blessing ceremony in Tulum, Mexico. Alice was just 3-month old when we headed to a resort in Mexico where there was no electricity, it was wicked hot and humid and the mosquitoes formed clouds around any living being. And it was a fantastic trip. The picture above and the one's below are from that trip. Ken and all of our friends helped me care for Alice. It really did take a village. One of my fondest memories of Ken from that trip was Alice's bath time. I had to load her up with DEET to keep the mosquitoes at bay and sunscreen to protect her lily white Irish skin. I wanted to get off all of those damn chemicals in the evening and all we had was a shower with water you can't drink. So, Ken and I went looking for a container and some fresh water to bathe Alice in. We found a busboy dish tub and asked the cooks to boil some water for us. Ken lugged the water from the outdoor kitchen to the palapa I was sharing with our friend, Sta. And then we bathed that little squiggle biggle by candlelight as the sun set. It was one of many beautiful memories I have of Ken and of all of my Art of Peace circle of friends.

I love you, Ken. I know you're in a better place, but I'm still mourning the loss of your physical presence. I know you're holding a beautiful space for all of us and will be there to welcome us when our times comes.

In closing, I wanted to share a paragraph from his obituary that does a wonderful job of capturing his generous spirit:

"Ken was a very kind and generous man, who sought to make life better in any way he could for everyone he met. Ken was known by all for his overwhelming generosity. If you wish to honor Ken's life, his family requests that you examine your own life for its many blessings with gratitude, and think of him when you meet someone in need that may need your help. Your generosity in his name will continue his legacy of love here on Earth."