Will Dickens In Memoriam

All Saints Day, 2009

Homily by The Rector

Life is an awesome gift, with its inherent and inescapable freedom and responsibility. No one can relieve us of the privilege and gravity of our lives. We can love each other, care for each other, offer guidance and support to each other. But each of us must make something of our lives, and we remain answerable for our choices. Life is an awesome gift.

Will Dickens’ departure from us is a grievous loss. We are still shocked and stunned. We had no indication that he was in distress. As often as the questions return, we will never know what he was feeling or exactly what happened. Neither will we know if there might have been anything any of us might have done differently that might have changed the outcome. We must let the questions go as readily as they come.

What we do know and can say is that Will was a joy and delight to us. His life, besides being a gift to him, was also a gift to us. While we wish we could have had him with us longer, we are grateful for the time he was with us. We thank heaven for his indelible selfhood, for his boisterous company, for his signature grin.

Life is not easy, nor is it altogether benign. Terrible things happen. Sorrow abounds. Despair is a ready resort. Evil is real. We bear the collective load of human error all the time. It can get us down.

Our kids grow up in a compromised world. We want to protect and shelter them from the worst of it. We want to insulate ourselves from it too. But perhaps we do better to face it, in manageable doses, to address it and contend with it. Perhaps we do better to equip ourselves, and our children, to take a stand and so counteract that which is unworthy of the gift of life.

I’ve been imagining a world in which no one would be susceptible to despair. It would be a better world. It would be the world as Jesus envisioned it could be. We have a lot of work to do to live up to the example of human potential that he offered us. His response to the gift of life made the world a better place. As we live into his vision for us, as we take up that work of response, we are strengthened. And our children take heart from it. And all that is unworthy is put on notice.

Consider to what extent we take our hopes and dreams seriously. Do we take them as seriously as our fears and worst nightmares? Do we take them more seriously? What difference does it make in each case? To what extent do we live as though good is stronger than evil? Do we act upon that premise, or do we hedge our bets? To what extent do we live trusting goodness to prevail? To do so, even sometime, changes the world for the better. The world becomes a more encouraging place for all of us.

Today we are accountable for choosing our response to Will’s death, and to the other tragic deaths of Gunn students, just as we must chose our response to whatever weighs heavily upon our hearts and spirits. We gather here to respond in a way that honors our love for him, for them, for humanity and for life itself. We are here to remind ourselves that love is stronger than death. So we are told, and so we believe. We are here to receive strength, so we are more able to live in that consolation, with confidence.

Here is how we honor Will’s life, his love for us and ours for him. As we miss him, we uphold the meaning and purpose that makes life worthwhile. We celebrate the love that enfolds the Dickens and Dixon families, their friends and neighbors, and all of us. We align ourselves with the goodness, recognizing it as amazing grace, the very power of God at work. By choosing to affirm all that is best in this life, we honor those we love and see no longer, those here and now who need our best response, and those who come after us.

By that amazing grace, may we be given the strength to respond more and more with trust, hope, and love. So may we become God’s redemptive work in the world. AMEN

The Rev. Dr. Katherine M. Lehman+ Rector

Remarks by Will’s Friend, Alex Braelow

I first met Will when I was 5 years old on the playgrounds of Nixon Elementary School. Since that time we have become notorious for relating stories of our adventures and Shenanigans. For instance, I always smile when I remember us hiking on Mount Tam as rambunctious seven year olds. Will had somehow managed to convince my mom that it was a good idea to bring along a soccer ball, with the promise that we wouldn’t play on the hills. As soon as we crested the first hill, Will pulled out the soccer ball and kicked it over to an unsuspecting me. I think I turned in just enough time to see it disappear into the woods 100 yards below. I do believe it is safe to say that we climbed that hill more than once that day.

For as long as I’ve known Will, he never lost that mischievous streak, and neither have I. We had a sort of code, based on eye contact that signaled to each other that collaboration was a foot. One fine day at Shoreline Sailing and Windsurfing Camp, all of the campers were sitting under the shade of a large pine tree. While the others were eating lunch, relaxing, talking and pretty much enjoying a nice summer afternoon, Will and I had stumbled upon an unattended garden hose. Without a word, a plan began to form. At this juncture I would like to point out that we were the youngest campers by a good 4 years, and because of this we had taken a certain amount of hazing which meant one thing, Total Warfare. Before any campers finished their sandwiches, we descended upon them. We were a blur of torrential garden hose and war cries. We unleashed our half pint revenge upon them.  Somehow or another we retreated to the protective heights of the shady pine trees.  We were perched up there with a seemingly endless amount of ammunition commonly referred to as pinecones.  We sat there back to back pelting pinecones at enraged teenagers keen to put us back into our place.  Henceforth we were known to all as Chipmunk and Squirrel. I knew at that point that Will would always have my back and that we would always be friends.

But the best thing about Will was his blatant honesty. This past spring our two families piled into the Dickens white minivan and powered down the California coast visiting various colleges. After an exhausting week, we had one last college to visit, Cal Lutheran. At this point, Will, Alison and I had grown weary of our text book Gunn student responses to questions regarding our interests. When the tour guide turned his attention to Will and asked him, “What are you interested in?” Will, with his iconic grin, replied whole heartedly, “Girls!” I turned to my mom and I said, “That must have been the most truthful response all week.”

Whatever I think of in life, I always imagine Will being there. Graduating from Gunn, rooming in college and growing old in some retirement home making comments about how those long haired hippy kids should stay off the lawn. And I guess in many respects he will be, just not the way I imagined. Will was my friend; he was my brother and I will always remember those good times we had together.

Remarks by Will’s Aunt, Kitty Dixon

Will, William . . . his name means determined, protector, especially of his younger sister, Aly.

A son, brother, grandson, nephew, cousin and friend, a musician, water polo player, computer wiz, adventurer.

Most importantly, to all of us Will was an amazing person: creative, thoughtful, compassionate, and so sweet, a smile that lit up a room, a funny, upbeat guy who brightened our days.

A famous writer once said, “I wanted a perfect ending.  Now I’ve learned the hard way that some poems don’t rhyme and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end.  Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what is going to happen next…”

Will was great at enjoying the moment; he lived life to the fullest! We had so many special times as a family. He loved to visit his cousins in California, his brothers and their families in Texas and North Carolina. He’d climb trees with them, swim, hike, bike ride, always on the go.  As a  family, Janet, Dick, and the kids traveled all over: in the motor home to beautiful camping spots around the country, every Thanksgiving in Hawaii, and to his Dad’s roots in England.

Aly loved their times in Hawaii. They would wake up each morning and run straight from their rooms with their boogie boards and hit the waves!! She will miss that.

Aly, his sister and best friend, holder of his secrets, love of his life. They would spend hours together playing video games, sharing music, Aly always getting advice on guys from him. They had just started to visit colleges around California, excited about some that were a great fit for them.

Then there were the holidays at Grandma and Grandpa’s. We remember how much he loved going there, especially at Christmas time! When it was time to leave, Will would hide and his cousins, Jeff and Matt would have to find him and carry him out to the car! So hard to leave Grandpa’s train set behind.

And Grandma Mildred, his Nona, who never let him leave for school without a hug and a Kit Kat.

Will would reluctantly play the piano for us, from an early age, always sounded like the accomplished musician of someone much older, so musically inclined!

One of his cousins thinks of Will every time she sees red licorice. About 12 years ago at Janet and Dick’s home at Pine Mountain Lake, our entire family would be there for the fourth of the July celebrations. We’d get up early, get packed up for lunch and swimming and then we spent the day at the Marina building sand castles, participating in the water balloon toss and having fun. Will and Aly played non-stop along with all their cousins. That entire day from when we woke up until Will headed for bed, she remembers he and Alison had no fewer that 3 Licorice Red Vines in their hands (and all over there faces) at all times. I think between the two of them, they single handedly polished off an entire Costco tub of Red Vines that weekend.

Will was a great swimmer from early on. He had the pool in the backyard of their Palo Alto home. Many days were spent playing in that pool with family and friends. Will and his older cousins had so much fun making human pyramids in the water and water fights. One day Will’s cousins Matt and Jeff decided to jump off the roof of the pool house into the pool. As dangerous as it was with an unsteady roof, Will, much younger, was right there behind them joining in the fun. He was a fun loving kid.

His years in the water were so evident when he reached high school. He had a job as a lifeguard and made varsity water polo team as a freshman, became a certified scuba diver just last year in Hawaii. He was a great competitive athlete.

And his parents, Janet and Dick, who put family and kids above all else. Thanks to them, Will had a great life filled with fun, learning, adventure, travel, home and most of all love. He had the best.

Robert Browning Hamilton once wrote:

I walked a mile with Pleasure,
She chattered all the way.
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow
And ne’er a word said she,
But oh, the things I learned from her
When Sorrow walked with me.

In these sad, tough times, it doesn’t help to ask, “Why us?” Why Will?”  Maybe we are the instruments who are left behind to perpetuate the life that was lost, give it meaning way into the future. We are left to appreciate the time we had with him, appreciating the life of William Dickens.

We miss you, Will.