By Brian Gulassa

I am Brian, one of David’s younger brothers.

David’s final voyage was on January 6th, the morning of my 39th birthday.

When we think of a birthday we think of a day that measures how old we are. We forget that it is actually a celebration of a day we don’t remember – the day we were born.

In the process of burying my brother I experienced a profound shift in my view of death. As I now understand it, death is a reflection of birth. Birth is a journey from somewhere unknown and death is a journey to somewhere unknown. These are two days about which we are not able to share our experiences with others, but they are two of most important days in our lives.

These two days cradle our lives like the covers of a book. When we hold the book open we see the pages of our history to the left and to the right the pages of our future. From this perspective they represent the beginning and the end. But, if you turn the book over you can see that the covers are connected; they are one. I feel honored to be bound to David in this special way. I will celebrate his journey with mine each year.

David’s death has been referred to as a terrible tragedy, but I look at his death as the conclusion of a phenomenal story. Though the ending of this book saddens me, I re-read it with warmth and new understanding and appreciation.

At first I was angry to learn of David’s midnight kayaking. I was frustrated and unable to understand why he would be so reckless. But, upon re-reading that passage of his story I realized what drew him to the water. The silencing of the city noises, the calming sound of a single paddle, the stars and city lights floating upon the water; for him it was a moment for reflection, a moment for inspiration, a moment for clarity.

As I re-read the pages I see an amazing story full of adventure, travel, innovation, passion, and creation. The illustrations in this book are full of beautiful and symbolic imagery.

I see the fire of passion that drove his creativity and drew in a community who surrounded him to gather warmth and inspiration.

I see the air that blew from the Northwest fueling the fire and breathing new life into what he created.

I see the earth, which he took and combined with his fire, and like an alchemist, forged metal in to gold.

And I see the water that surrounded him, inspired him, embraced him.

But, in the end, it was the water that extinguished his flame.

We are all characters that appear within these pages and our lives are all connected. Our stories, however, are incomplete. David will continue to live on the pages of our lives. Let us make our stories reflect his passion for living.