r.i.p.

It's always when we lose someone or something that we realize what we have. We come from a very unique little town in the middle of nowhere. Ends of roads and water lapping at our feet forced community on all of us, it forced a family on us that we will always be a part of no matter how much we try to get away. And many of us have tried to get away, but this little mountain town will never let us go.
It's when we lose people who have bonded us even tighter than geography could, that we really think about where we came from. This is a man who made every person feel worthy, his jokes were unending and his smiles entirely infectious. He watched a lot of us grow up, he coached a lot of us, he rooted us on when we triumphed in school, in sports, in life in general. He raised three amazing kids in whom we see bits of him. We remember his jokes, his voice, his overall warm and welcoming disposition. His vibrant personality affected everyone he met.
And we're reminded of what a strong community he helped create for us to grow up in. That we are lucky to have grown up in a large family. Though some of us haven't talked in months or years, we can rely on each other when it matters. We've created mini-juneaus throughout the country. When one person comes to town, everyone congregates.
I hate that it takes somethings like this to make us, to make me, realize this.
Thank you all for being part of that community, for being part of my family. For rooting me on, laughing with me, crying with me, even if it's been years. I wouldn't give away my life in that mountain town, no matter how much we all come to resent it at times. I wouldn't give away Douglas, Saint Ann's Avenue, or that little blue house across the street.
R.I.P Donny Ashe, you will be missed.