The Light of Kumar Lewis

This morning I woke up really, really sad. I'd dreamt about an old friend, Kumar Lewis. I ran into him on our high school's bleachers and reached out to him to console him. Someone close to him had been killed. The sight of his bright smile and the feeling of hugging him was so vivid. Then I woke up and remembered, Kumar is the one that was killed. It's been almost a month now. And I haven't found a way to accept it.

I decided today I would try. I typed his name into Google and found a posting by a fellow Analy High School alumn, someone who knew Kumar when I did. Thanks for the inspiration and for remembering him for all of us, Wes.

Kumar and I hadn't been close in more than a decade either. I remember the last time I saw him, at the Old Main Street Saloon in Sebastopol, his friend Noah by his side. With his classic smile and a warm hug, he told me he'd been spending time traveling the world, working for peace, learning foreign languages and music, and I remember thinking "yep, that's so Kumar." But I was too wrapped up in my own twenty-something, self-important drama to take the time to catch up with him that night.

Kumar was an exceptional person, filled with light. When I knew him in 1992, his face literally glowed wherever he went. He had a smile for everyone. For a teenager, that's amazing. From the pictures and messages on his memorial website, it seems he grew more brilliant as a man.

I miss you Kumar. Not because you were a daily part of my life, but because, as Wes so eloquently put it, the loss of your warmth and spirit has made this world a little less bright for all of us. Thank you for your generous legacy...a message of peace, tolerance, sharing and lust for life that, in your memory, I promise to hold dear.