"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?" - Edgar Allan Poe
I am not quite sure how this is supposed to go, and when I was first asked to write this an intense wave of panic swept through me... While I have known loss, tragic loss, throughout my life, I do not know if anyone is ever prepared to write a dedication. I do not know if anyone is ever prepared for this moment, the moment when you are forced to acknowledge that seemingly overnight the world became a different and unfamiliar place. In fact, I even tried Googling "how to write a dedication" in an attempt to find a how to guide that could lend me some sort, any sort of structure. I have no idea what I am supposed to say to offer comfort or how I am supposed to say it because I do not know what I am supposed to tell myself.
There are many people who pass through this life without leaving a mark; by far, Sam was not one of them. I do not remember the first time I met Sam, but I do remember the energy he brought into a room. I remember his smile, his bear hugs, and that confused, or perhaps befuddled, look he would get when he could not understand why my largely female staff was being ridiculous. I remember his willingness to throw himself into new opportunities, his willingness to take on new challenges. I remember learning how well he could do the robot during dance battles at staff retreats and late night conversations about relationships. I remember a Halloween where we all fell in love with the joy he brought to the party. I remember the days where his smile alone was able to lift the weight off of my shoulders. I remember feeling great pride in his accomplishments on behalf of the Community Service Commission (CSC) and feeling comfortable with him representing 2,000+ students to administrators and entities across campus. I remember feeling great sorrow when I realized that I had failed him as a leader and as a friend, that I had failed to protect him from the painful words of fellow members of our CSC family. And I remember letting him go on the roof of Kerckhoff Hall, knowing in my heart that no matter where the wind took him next he would be off on some new, exciting adventure as I had known from the beginning that there was something truly special about him. Having Sam Oliver, the man with two first names, on my staff was a privilege. He left a mark on my mind and on my heart, and he pushed so many of us to be better than we were.
There has been an outpouring of love and grief from many communities following his passing, a testament to the impact he had on so many people. He was... he was adored. There is no other way to put it. He was adored. I adored him, my staff adored him, his roommates adored him, his friends adored him, his family adored him, UCLA adored him. I can only hope that in his heart, then and now in his eternal sleep, he is cognizant of the sparkle he brought to all of our lives. I hope he understands that his magic was tangible, palpable, and electrifying.
Rest in peace, Sam Oliver. You are already truly missed.
Sending you my love,
Thor
I am not quite sure how this is supposed to go, and when I was first asked to write this an intense wave of panic swept through me... While I have known loss, tragic loss, throughout my life, I do not know if anyone is ever prepared to write a dedication. I do not know if anyone is ever prepared for this moment, the moment when you are forced to acknowledge that seemingly overnight the world became a different and unfamiliar place. In fact, I even tried Googling "how to write a dedication" in an attempt to find a how to guide that could lend me some sort, any sort of structure. I have no idea what I am supposed to say to offer comfort or how I am supposed to say it because I do not know what I am supposed to tell myself.
There are many people who pass through this life without leaving a mark; by far, Sam was not one of them. I do not remember the first time I met Sam, but I do remember the energy he brought into a room. I remember his smile, his bear hugs, and that confused, or perhaps befuddled, look he would get when he could not understand why my largely female staff was being ridiculous. I remember his willingness to throw himself into new opportunities, his willingness to take on new challenges. I remember learning how well he could do the robot during dance battles at staff retreats and late night conversations about relationships. I remember a Halloween where we all fell in love with the joy he brought to the party. I remember the days where his smile alone was able to lift the weight off of my shoulders. I remember feeling great pride in his accomplishments on behalf of the Community Service Commission (CSC) and feeling comfortable with him representing 2,000+ students to administrators and entities across campus. I remember feeling great sorrow when I realized that I had failed him as a leader and as a friend, that I had failed to protect him from the painful words of fellow members of our CSC family. And I remember letting him go on the roof of Kerckhoff Hall, knowing in my heart that no matter where the wind took him next he would be off on some new, exciting adventure as I had known from the beginning that there was something truly special about him. Having Sam Oliver, the man with two first names, on my staff was a privilege. He left a mark on my mind and on my heart, and he pushed so many of us to be better than we were.
There has been an outpouring of love and grief from many communities following his passing, a testament to the impact he had on so many people. He was... he was adored. There is no other way to put it. He was adored. I adored him, my staff adored him, his roommates adored him, his friends adored him, his family adored him, UCLA adored him. I can only hope that in his heart, then and now in his eternal sleep, he is cognizant of the sparkle he brought to all of our lives. I hope he understands that his magic was tangible, palpable, and electrifying.
Rest in peace, Sam Oliver. You are already truly missed.
Sending you my love,
Thor
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