David Mills: P-Funkster

Just over a week ago a fellow blogger and friend of four years, David Mills, died suddenly (here). Since then, I have not cared to blog. While I looked up to this Emmy award-winning script writer in many ways, his death realized my worst fear – how we shorten our time here.

My father, a great man in my eyes, shortened his life by not taking care of himself – he smoked. Despite the warnings, he forgot himself. The years of high blood pressure, and lung/vascular issues, chaperoned him to an early grave. David’s abrupt passing was a reminder.

Just as our cars tell us when they need maintenance, so do our bodies, if we are listening. To listen is to not only live longer, but better. Dreading stairs, because you can’t breathe, or airplane seats, because you can’t fit, or the aches of old age itself – this is our body talking to us.

Last year David stopped blogging, after his 2,000th posting, to throw himself a lifeline. He wanted to quit smoking, lose weight, eat better, sleep better, and reconnect with friends/family. I applauded his move of looking after himself. But, in the comfort and excitement of new work (Treme'), the familiar demons remained. I wondered that he had back-burnered his plans, as he returned to blogging. Maybe it was just his time to go, but then again maybe it wasn’t.

Like my father, David was unforgettable to those he touched, but time erases it all. His touching stopped last week. He once bravado’d that even with his shortcomings, people would be talking about him after he was gone. Nailed it, David! His lasting gift, as I see it, is the very credible case his extraordinary life, and early death, makes for us to remember ourselves.

James C. Collier

H/T: Undercover Black Man

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