Who the Hell is maadjurguer?

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I like to ski, mountain bike, drink beer, cook and listen to any jam band I can get my hands on; all while making a complete ass of myself. Hopefully this catharsis is as interesting to others as it is to me.

Saturday, July 9, 2011


Lindsey was many things to many people.  She was not a simple person by any stretch of the imagination, yet the complexity that this may imply should not extend to perceptions that she was anything less than genuine as is sometimes the case these days.  In every way, the Lindsey we all know and love was like many things in our lives that make our lives beautiful and enriched.  These things surround us throughout the seasons of our lives, yet without the beautiful interpretation given to us from a person like Lindsey we may very well live our lives to their end without fully appreciating the totality of the experience.

Lindsey was, for many people, a star like Altair; one of the brightest objects around.  Glowing since time immortal and destined to shine long after we are gone, she lit even the darkest corners of our lives with a light so loving that one could not help but feel warmed from her illumination.  It’s no surprise that she would turn to the sky above when it came time to seek an education and career.  Growing up dreaming of the stars, she never hesitated to point up to an obscure constellation and rattle off astronomic descriptions in an awe-struck, staccato listing of attributes such as M-class, gaseous nebulae and red-shift distinctions.  To her, reality was not just the things she could see immediately around her; but the things that existed beyond all of us.  I know from experience that anyone lucky enough to be with her under the ink-black cloak of a moonless sky on a cool fall night was in for a star-filled voyage they’d never forget.  With the sounds of frogs in the creeks and elk bugling over a gentle breeze, she lit up the night.

For other people, Lindsey was the tall sunflower standing sentinel over lesser flowers on the sun-drenched fields of summer.  Begging the attention of all those who walked in her presence with her golden bright smile and arms outstretched; she welcomed anyone with an open and honest heart.  Her roots ran deep and from them she grew straight into the sky, seeking the sun as it carved a path across the heavens.  In many ways, she became the genuine article of all that is right in the world.  Bright, cheerful and celebratory; her warmness represented an honesty that is poorly represented in our time.  For most, her concern for, and interest in, other people’s problems was a sign that wherever they went, they would always have the reassuring presence of a sunflower who said everything will be alright, even in the darkest of times. 

And for some people, she was like a snowflake that drifts down from the sky; unique in her beauty and materializing from clouds on the desert horizon which blanket the sky islands of pine with snow on a winter’s day.  She floated down from an ethereal realm until she landed in front of you and you could not help from being captured by her unique and multi-faceted beauty.  It was this uniqueness that you could not take your eyes off of.  Within her beauty, you saw purpose, intent and potential.  Despite endless peaks on the horizon which hold their snow deep; she was one of a kind and you were reminded of it in her presence.  It is this uniqueness that led me to fall in love with her shortly after we first met 11 years ago. 

But as every sunflower fades at summers end and is covered by the snowflakes of winter, we must remember that the cycle begins anew with the stars circling overhead in eternal motion.  We must never forget that for every shadow, there is a light that casts that shadow; and to turn our head to that light.  As the sunflowers of summer track the suns motion and thus the stars; and the snowflakes upon the field give life to the sunflowers of spring; all things beautiful will return to us again.  Until that day, we need only to look up at the sky at night, walk through a field of sunflowers and dance in the coming snows of winter to see her.  In these things she lives on and our memory of her will never fade from our hearts.


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