In Memory of Nicholas "Nicky" Moore

This is a safe space to honor the memory of Nicholas "Nicky" Moore. Nick grew up in both Jacksonville and Medford, Oregon. Nick was special, just like all of us. If you would like to contribute to this digital memorial page, please email [email protected] and he will put you in touch with the webmaster.

[nicholasmoorelove]

Back in J'ville

I went jogging this morning in Jacksonville, back where we spent so much time when we were in the fifth grade. Before I started my jog, I paid a visit to Ryan (or "Beavs," as we fondly would call him), and told him to tell you that I said hi. Jogging through the trees, surrounded by fog, everything was so familiar, and yet, everything had changed. I thought of you the whole way up and the whole way back.

Then I had coffee with an old friend, and we talked about you Nicky, and how we miss you. We hadn't seen each other in years, but we laughed about how we still look like we remember each other all those years ago. Again, I was overwhelmed with the familiarity, surprised by the extent of the change.

How can things be so different, and yet when I think of you, I'm overwhelmed by the nostalgia?

I wish we could have had one last conversation. 

[nicholasmoorelove]

Nicky, do you remember when we went to an Everclear concert when we were like, 12? I lost you in the mosh pit, but it makes me smile to remember seeing you out there, kicking ass and moshing with the best of them, even as young as you were. You were fearless.

[nicholasmoorelove]

Sometimes all we have are moments.

Two weeks have passed since Nicky left us, and just now today, I feel like I can talk about it here. I've been reluctant to post anything, not because I don't have anything to say, but because I have so much to say about Nicky, that the task of memorializing him here is a bit daunting. A lot of what I have to say, consists, unfortunately, of all that remained unsaid between us for years. Nicky was, after all, one of my best friends when I was much younger, and for only a few years. But even as you grow apart from your childhood friends, I don't believe that you ever stop being friends. Even if there is a falling out between two people, which never happened between Nicky and myself, I don't think that friendship fades so easily. And though I left this area after high school and have only recently come back for any significant period of time without being in some decidedly transitional phase, I have always been here, and he has always been here. We could have reconnected at any time. Such is the wonder of modern technology. For instance, I just got off of a nearly two hour Skype call with a friend that I made while living in Jerusalem, who is currently in New York. There's no reason why Nicky and I couldn't have reconnected after all this time.

We did however find each other on Facebook. I have mixed feelings about that site, because while I feel it helps me stay connected to my friends on a global scale (my friends really do span the North American continent, the Middle East, Europe and Australia at this point) and connected with people I've lost touch with from my past (as far back as kindergarten, and further, if you count my scattered extended family members), I also find it to be a dangerous platform for narcissism, and insincerity. Has anyone with a Facebook account ever looked at someone else's posted pictures of parties, travels, and otherwise good times and not felt the pangs of jealousy? It's like looking into a window of someone else's life, but the people in the window know you are watching, so they only show you the highly censored details of their lives that they want to share. And we all know this, but the illusion that everyone else is doing something much more fun, meaningful, productive or impressive is hard to reject when there is a never-ending stream of it in your face.

But even with those complaints, and even as I participate in the socially accepted narcissistic grandstanding of Facebook, I do appreciate finding the familiar faces of old friends, and have a natural curiosity regarding their lives. What are they doing now? Did they go to college? Where do they work? Are they married? Do they have kids? What do they look like? A human being can change so much over the years, and Nicky was no different. I found that he had married, had a son, and still looked so much like how I remember him, that there is no way I could have mistook him for anyone else if we were to cross each other on the streets. Looking at my old photos from our childhood, he's unmistakable. Pictures from my 13th birthday party of us bowling are just as vivid as my memories of him.

We didn't talk much on Facebook. Just an occasional hello, liking a post, commenting here and there. And there was something comforting in that. I could reach out and say 'hi' whenever I wanted to. I could set up a time to meet, have a coffee or beer with him. And I intended to, while assuming that I had plenty of time to do so. So I put it on the back burner as I lived my life. And then Facebook told me that I was out of time. Coulda, shoulda, woulda.

Since then, I've been trying to reach out more sincerely to people. To make that coffee date. To have that long overdue chat. To value the now, and not just assume in the future. Two months prior to Nicky's passing, my elderly grandmother passed away. I kept meaning to call her. I never did. And now all I have to say to her will remain unsaid until we are reunited one day, God willing.

I suppose that the very faint silver lining in all of this very grey dreariness, is that Nicky taught me something as he left this world behind. While it's easy to succumb to grief, to wrack your brain for answers to the whys and certainly to be angry, I believe Nicky was telling us something else that is easy to overlook, which is this: Never take anything or anyone for granted. Never assume that you will have the luxury of putting something off until later. Right here and right now is more important than dwelling in what might have been and what has already happened, and the future hasn't happened yet. Even when the now is painful, it's what we have to work with, and it will ultimately decide the direction that we go in the future.

So catch up with your old friends. Keep the Skype date even when you aren't feeling well. Call your grandma. Tell the people you love that you love them. Say the things that you don't want to remain unsaid.

Life can change in a moment, and sometimes, the quickly passing moments in life is all you have with someone who means a lot to you.

[nicholasmoorelove]

Four Winds

At some point during ones life, at the end of this era or that, you realize that all those people who made up this shallow water known as “your life” are now going off in their own separate directions to find unique horizons. When you realize this you first think “oh fuck, this sucks!” or something like that. After a little time however, you begin to see the kaleidoscopic beauty of the multitude of faces which have come to mark your memory, and you are struck by some vision of all the possible things which they may become and the sheer excitement which comes from having the privilege of being allowed to see where their roads may possibly lead. You imagine some “Big Chill” esque event thirty years in the future when you will see all these faces again and you will read the stories of their lives, you imagine it will be good and all the loose ends will be tied up in the logic of some mature understanding. Maybe this emotion will fade as well. I feel like I know this however, we bare witness to each other in every past tense, and this is not a light burden. 

To everyone I know who is scattering to the four winds: good luck. I'll be excited to see what you become.

[nicholasmoorelove]

[nicholasmoorelove]

Nicky - I know it has been months since we last spoke, but I want you to know that I thought of you often during that time. I want you to know that I have been listening to this song and crying my eyes out every day for you and your family. For whatever reason, this song came into my life and when I hear it I think of you. I love you.  Then. Now. Forever. 

[nicholasmoorelove]

The Death Of A Warrior

We lost another good man today. And the only difference between the man we lost today and the men that we have become accustomed to losing over the years is a single metric: age. Nick Moore (also known as Nicky in his formative years) was twenty-eight years old. 

I will always remember the first time that I met Nicky (I feel comfortable using that nombre here because, at least in my own impressionable mind, he will always be remembered as Nicky). 

Nicky was the new kid. He was “cool” because he had arrived in Jacksonville, Oregon and hailed from somewhere much “cooler” than Jacksonville (California if you can trust my mercurial memory). 

Nicky had arrived at Jacksonville Elementary School during a golden age of learning. The majority of teachers at Jacksonville Elementary during that time (the middle 1990s) were very “seasoned.” Some referred to them as “masters of the craft of teaching.” In turn, the State of Oregon referred to Jacksonville Elementary somewhat regularly as an “Excellent” or “Exceptional” learning environment. 

The reason for Nicky’s arrival was unclear. Some say it had to do with an employment opportunity on the part of one of his parents. Others said something contradictory. It mattered little what was said. All that mattered was that Jacksonville had been blessed with a new leader and it was my “job” to show this young man around his new academic quarters. I felt honored. 

From the beginning, it was clear that Nick was unlike all the other boys at Jacksonville. He stood a little taller. He played basketball and could actually score when he needed to. On some days, he wore blue jeans and a white t-shirt. 

As I showed Nicky around the school, I could tell that his presence alone  would be enough to transform the entire social fabric of every Pioneer attending Jacksonville Elementary School in the middle 1990s.

[nicholasmoorelove]

#jacksonville #snow #ripnickymoore