We talked about stuff that really mattered. Work was put on the back burner. I realised what I had been missing. I had been so self-absorbed that nobody else mattered to me but me. Who did I need? Not Dave, not anyone...not even God. But now I did need God. I needed him to heal Dave. I needed God to know that I was thankful for all the great things he had enabled me to do, but which I had wasted all on myself. And now I wanted a second chance. I was a better person when I graduated later that year.

I was better for the friendships I had made with these men and women who had banded together to support their friend in his time of need. I remember the thrill when I heard Dave’s name read at the ceremony and I watched him walk up the steps and receive his diploma. I never let him become so distant from me again. During the last five years of Dave’s life, I attended his block party every year.

Dave died December 8, 1995. He was only 25. I thank God for those last five years.Every year, I take December 8 off from work.

I use that day to tell those around me how much I love them and how my life would be worse if it wasn’t for their presence. There have been times that all of the roommates have gotten together to catch up with each other on this day and on other days. I’m glad that Dave taught me the lesson of loving all the people.

And I’m glad God let me tell Dave that I love him too. —Beliefnet.com (Concluded)