"You're so great". When you first hear someone say that to you in the middle of a normal conversation, you don't really know how to react. You give a little laugh, you look away, maybe change the subject. As a catchphrase, it seems silly at first. It's hard to take such words seriously. But, as time goes on, you start to believe it a little bit. You start to use those three little words in your own interactions with people, and you start to mean them a little bit. Maybe he's right, you think to yourself, maybe I am great. Maybe everyone really is great.
George, with his huge smile and his belief that we are all great changed everyone at Sterling College, a small school in northern Vermont. You couldn't talk to him for 2 minutes without making him just glow with pleasure and assure you that you are, indeed, great. We'd tell eachother that we were great, and we'd mean it, but the words would also bring George's presence into the conversation and with it would come his peace, his joy, his appreciation for life.
I spent many nights camping with George in a small 2-person tent. We seldom slept- we talked about religion, about love, about the mountains. He taught me to ice climb and he improved my rock climbing with his insightful instruction. But more importantly, he taught me to appreciate the people who I meet every day. When you're open to people showing you their greatness, it's not hard to find.
George died in the Teton mountains this week. It's easy to say that, "well, at least he died doing what he loved", and that is certainly true. But, the world is a sadder place without him. My thoughts of peace go to his dear wife and two children (with whom I shared memorable a Thansgkiving dinner, many years ago) at this difficult time.
