Legacy.

It was no ordinary sunset.

Driving out of Homer, I noticed amidst her splendid landscape that there set a most sensational sun.

Alaska is well known for her sunsets, especially this time of year; but this, this was something else, something special.

Like heavenly light shining down, the sun was saying goodbye with such intensity and vigor, illuminating the sky in marvelous color.

It wasn’t ten minutes later that we got the call.

My mom answered, and within seconds, I felt the air being sucked out of the car.

Her brows brought together, she looked at me with such heartache that I knew the news on the other end of the line was nothing but tragic.

She handed the phone over to me, and it was my dad. The number of times I’ve witnessed my dad cry can be counted on one hand.

This, was one of them.

There had been a plane accident, in Kodiak. One pilot was killed.

That pilot was Soldotna businessmen and dear family friend, Derek Leichliter.

And he was gone.

Just like that, he was just… gone.

I couldn’t quite believe it at first. Like, surely this can’t be real. A quick search on the internet confirmed the worst though: he had indeed gone down in a plane crash and had not survived.

Oh.

Oh my.

Seeing his face in my head, his striking blue eyes and contagious smile, I just couldn’t quite fathom that someone we knew, someone I knew, someone who I just saw the other day, could be taken so suddenly.

I haven’t really experienced loss of that magnitude. Until now.

Like, grief was such an abstract idea at first and then one day you’re like, oh my word we’re not so invincible after all. Grief all of a sudden felt real. Death all of a sudden felt ironically alive, and now present in my life.

The next few days were hard, to say the least.

Remembering him everywhere, especially at the coffee shop were he always ordered a skinny vanilla latte with almond milk twice a day, often brings about tears and a tender moment of quiet fondness.

I see his business trucks driving around town, and I still hope to see him in the driver’s seat talking on his phone (on speaker, of course).

I remembered something my gem told me in the midst of this unfortunate loss, about goodbyes.

My gem, having a particular fondness and passion for saying proper farewells told me, this is why I care about goodbyes so much.

And by golly, he’s so right. You just never know when it could be your last time seeing them.

It’s strange, how loss makes you cling to your loved ones just a little tighter. It brings people together in a way you can’t quite explain, though deep down, you know it’s because you realize just how damn precious life really is.

The last thing I remember Derek telling me as he left with his two skinny vanilla lattes with almond milk was “Have a good day!” and I cherish that departure.

Derek’s business, Legacy is fittingly named after what he left this town. Just that: a legacy.

An avid outdoorsmen and true Alaskan, Derek was generous, lively, outgoing, and had a big heart. He cared deeply about the community and made friends wherever he went. He leaves behind a beautiful and caring family, and though he was claimed far too soon, he died doing what he loved. If only we could all be that lucky.

So no wonder that sunset felt so special. I’d like to think it was Derek, flying across the horizon blessing us with his color and light.

May you Rest In Peace.