Within five minutes of arriving at his home, Lennox pooped on Gavin's kitchen floor. And in true Gavin fashion, he laughed, and gave her the biggest warmest, hug despite her faux pas. As a Michigan kid who idolized him, he was the definition of "DO meet your heroes." He wore his heart on his sleeve and shared it with everyone. Every time you left his presence, be it for a weekend or for a few minutes, you went "THAT. I gotta live with more of THAT in my life." Even when he became a friend, I still remained a little in awe of him, despite how much he treated everyone like an equal: a sister, a brother, a confidante. He was about to turn 47 last time we were able to spend multiple hours together, but I remember asking him how old he FELT. Without blinking, he said: "25." But of course he felt that way. That's what it was like to be around him. You felt like life was always always always brimming with possibility and discovery when seen through Gavin's perpetually 20-something eyes. I don't have anything to add that hasn't been said. I just want to add to the outpouring of stories of how he touched so many people's lives. Please please please keep sharing the stories. We all need them. And if you need a little extra, a poem below for those who might need it. Where has this cold come from? "It comes from the death of your friend." Will I always, from now on, be this cold? "No, it will diminish. But always it will be with you." What is the reason for it? "Wasn't your friendship always as beautiful as a flame?" -Mary Oliver