A family friend of mine, Cedric, died in his sleep a couple of days ago. He was 45 and much too young to die. Cedric was a surrogate uncle to my children and always acted as a role model to my kids in the most influential and subtle way. He never really verbally coached a lesson; instead, he illustrated the things he taught simply by “doing” the actions other people only talk about. He was one of the kindest and most positive people you would ever want to encounter.
Anytime someone dies at such a young age it can be a jarring wakeup call illuminating how briefly we occupy space on this planet. His death was a shock to me, and it rattled me to the very core. Although I didn’t see him often, whenever I did, I was always taken by his kind, ebullient spirit. The last time I saw him was one year ago at my son’s high school graduation.
Cedric held a very special place in my heart. Several years ago, in 2014, I was going through a difficult transition from one stage of life to a new, unfolding, unknown chapter. I remember feeling very off-balance at the time and I sat down and began writing my thoughts about the various chapters of my life. This missive became a small piece that I called, The Way of the Butterfly.
It just so happened that Cedric was visiting our family at the time of the writing. When I finished the piece, Cedric was the very first person that I had read it. I remember walking out of my office with my computer in hand and I said, “Do you mind reading this and giving me your thoughts?” He happily complied and when he finished, he told me, “I love it. You need to publish this.”
I was in a pretty dark place at the time, not a space where I really felt compelled to publish anything, so I put The Way of the Butterfly into a drawer until I eventually put it on my website to go unnoticed for many years. Time passed; I wrote several other books; Then, I got kind of burned-out writing things that weren’t widely read, and I stopped writing.
This past week I felt this urge to revisit The Way of the Butterfly. I wasn’t sure what inspired the idea at the time, but I searched and found the old PDF I had written many years prior still silently taking up space on my computer; I considered publishing the small piece.
Hours later when I was about to go onstage to host an awards show at ATT Stadium (Cowboy Stadium), I got a message from a friend saying, “Cedric died.” I stared at this message in disbelief. Although the show was about to begin, I stood staring blankly at my phone. I could hear the crowd filing into the stadium, talking and laughing as their night was about to begin; my night came to a screeching halt.
I couldn’t believe Cedric was gone. I immediately thought about my kids, his family, and all the people who knew and loved Cedric so much; my heart broke for each and every one of the friends and family who knew and loved him. The awards show was a blur. I got through it, but Cedric was on my mind throughout the entire performance. This wonderful soul had transcended. This majestic butterfly had transformed, and he would grace our presence only in spirit now.
It wasn’t lost on me that earlier in the day I felt inspired to publish The Way of the Butterfly. It was my friend encouraging me to have the courage to put the piece out into the Universe. Below is a link to the piece that Cedric suggested I publish nearly 8 years ago. It’s not perfect by any means, but I realize perfection is a concept. It is simply an idea that prevents us from taking a risk and exposing our heart.
One time someone asked Cedric, “What would having the best day possible mean to you?” His response summed up who he was as a man. He eloquently replied:
“In this moment, having the ‘best day possible’ would mean that I had spoken to my closest loved ones and they’d individually gushed to me about something wonderful happening to them that day (be it personal or professional); I spoke to or received a text/email from people who wanted to thank me for changing their life for the better; I engaged in at least 5 heartfelt hugs; I learned a new word; I went skydiving; I told someone I loved them.”
This was the Cedric that I knew, without fail, every time I spoke with him. He was such a lovely human being and without a doubt, I love him and he definitely changed my life for the better. Our heartfelt hugs may no longer but if I were to teach him one new would today it would be: Mensch. A Mensch is a person of integrity and honor.
You, my friend, are a Mensch.
I hope you enjoy The Way of the Butterfly and that something within its words encourage you to take chances in your life, to love a little more, to dance in the rain, and to go sky diving on a whim. Life is but a blink of the eye, live it with gusto.
To my friend, Cedric, you did all of these things and more. I send you so much love. Thank you for the impact you made on my family and me. You will be forever missed.
(click to receive your free copy of The Way of the Butterfly)