This post will have very little to do with architecture, or my business, or people’s problems. This mostly venting and raging, albeit quietly.

Last Friday I had a short meeting with a client at the Kennett Farmer’s Market. Four hours later he was killed in a car accident. The suddenness and immediacy are staggering. My heart doesn’t know what to grieve and mourn.

Should I mourn the man who worked at the absolute edge of his limits to effect change on the world, to create a place where people could be creative and cooperative.

Should I mourn the person who sat at my booth on my very first day and was so enthused by my idea that he inspired me to continue it, and grow it, and make it the foundation of my business.

Should I mourn the gentle soul who carried his burdens with grace and dignity.

Should I be honest and mourn the loss of an interesting project and the income it would have provided.

Should I mourn that there is one less Light in the world.

I know in an intellectual place that our lives are transitory, that we should take every opportunity to tell people that they are important to us. The suddenness of his death makes me feel that truth in my gut. I feel that were I to go suddenly, there are unsaid things still in me. And I know that I’m not doing enough with my abilities and time.

I don’t wish this kind of wake-up call on anyone, but when it comes, we should try to hear what it is telling us. For me, I’m hearing that I need to take care of myself better, to  keep family and friends in my mind, and to finally make the appointment to get our wills drawn up.

And that I need to spend time ensuring that David’s visions continue, carried by his friends into the world.