A life remembered.

I loved "The Big Chill." It came out when I was at University at Emory in Atlanta. Unfortunately, what I have come to know this past weekend is what it feels like to lose yet another friend. Robert was a fellow attorney and a good man. We had begun to formulate plans to open a law firm together. At 53, he passed away after suffering a heart attack. Fifty-three, I thought, is far too young.

The only friends I lost had been police officers who were either younger than me, or close to my age. Tweny-six died on 9/11 and three in the line of duty. The fact that their jobs always carried the possibility of injury or death did not make their passing easier, but in a way, since they knew it could happen, it was different. Robert is the first business associate and friend with whom I spoke almost daily.

I did not know many details of his personal life; but I knew he was finally in a space in which he felt happy and content. He viewed this firm as a positive step for him and one that was long overdue. I saw him as a complementary intellect, someone who had ideals and standards similar to my own.

As attorneys, we analyzed situations within the tribal government that caused us concern; and proposed solutions. I liked that about him. He sought solutions. And he was very smart, but somehow, that side was not recognized as it should have been by the Tribe.

I wanted to remember him publicly, because he was a good person. His life was important and meant something to the people here. I remain saddened, but know that, again, in honoring him, his family members who are deeply grieving can know he was appreciated and cared for in a way most do not express until the person is gone.