R.I.P. Aaron Martens

He stood alone in the dark parking lot looking straight up at the nighttime sky.

And he started to twirl around in circles, and suddenly, magically, children from all over the campground came running towards him. 

They too started to twirl and point up to the stars above, lit only by the light of my iPhone which Aaron had “borrowed” from me once I showed him the nighttime sky app that illuminated the heavens above.

And now he too is up there among the stars looking downward, from heaven.

My good buddy, and the good buddy to many many more people, has passed.

I knew a wizard once, and his name was Aaron Martens.

And I am a better, gentler man because the wizard was my friend.

I got Aaron, I knew that when I asked him a question I wouldn’t get back an answer, I would instead get back an explanation. An explanation that started with my question and circled back with the answer that explained it all from beginning to middle to end.

Aaron Martens taught me something with every answer he gave to every question I ever asked. His answer was nothing short of a symphony of understanding and teaching.  

He also hugged me every time I ever saw him, he would cross a room to hug me, cross a restaurant to hug me, and on several hundred times cross a launch parking lot, or backstage weigh-in, to hug me.

The hug always began with, “Hey db, you OK?”

The hug always ended with, “Love you, db, be good.”

Dear Aaron … I’m not OK today, because I miss you. Good, somedays, somedays not.

Love you too, Aaron, and I wish I said that more to you, I should have.

I knew a wizard once, and his name was Aaron Martens.

And I will forever miss him, as well as love. 

db    

Read more: Aaron Martens – Thousand Voices