therapy at Triple

In the devastating aftermath of the tragic and sudden death of our friend, Mike Edgington, all of us who knew and loved him attempted to regain a sense of "normal" while working in our respective offices this week. Normal wasn't attainable, however; those who had heard the news over the weekend were still reeling, and those who hadn't were shell-shocked to find out. When an email from AT, one of Mike's roommates, was sent around to a couple of the accounting firms inviting all who knew Mike to gather at Triple Crown (one of Mike's favorite spots) after work for a time of remembrance, we were relieved for an outlet for the pain.

As we arrived, the mood was understandably somber. We all relayed similar feelings of shock and sorrow, as well as how much we enjoyed and respected Mike. In every conversation, there was a common theme of being thankful for those we cared deeply for, and thankful for life.

DK had thoughtfully constructed a memorial using the last picture of Mike - a picture that captured our friend as we remember him. Very quietly, very carefully, with hanging heads, about thirty of us crossed West Bay Road, with a shudder, to set up the memorial near the scene of the accident.

DK and AT, memorializing Mike

 DK spoke a few words, reminding us again of what a terrific pal Mike had become to all of us. We added flowers and had a moment of silence.

As we filed back into Triple to reconvene and spend more time together, it felt like a small part of the gaping wound had started to heal. Very small, but very real. Our brows unfurled, and we started to smile again. I wouldn't call it happiness, but the tension had broken a bit as instead of rehashing the details of that wretched evening, we recalled our funny Mike memories.

It was like setting up the memorial brought honor to Mike's passing. We had done something. Though insignificant, we knew the memorial would maintain his honor and dignity in our minds forever.

I drove by the spot the next day to get a picture in the daylight.

Mike's memory lives on: On this blog, in Grand Cayman, and in our hearts.