Honoring Elliot Bean
This weekend, I flew to Portland, Oregon, to attend the Memorial of Elliot Bean, the 25-year-old son of my friend, Kelly, who I met in Rwanda many years ago. No one should attend a Memorial of anyone who died suddenly from unknown causes at 25. No son should die before their parents, with a massive, joyous, world-changing life in front of him. No friend should leave his young peer group behind now knowing the life we think is infinite at 25 is not. With such light and promise, hope and joy, humor, and life, no one should leave a world mired in the dark, uncertainty, anger, pain, and hate. This world needed Elliot Bean.
I didn’t know Elliot personally. I met him once in Rwanda when he was a young teenager. I know his mother, Kelly. To know Kelly is to understand Elliot — her golden boy. Kelly and I met in Rwanda many years ago. I can’t remember the exact circumstances, although Americans working abroad tend to find each other in the strangely small and circular world of trying to do good things. Kelly started an organization, African Road. We both started working in Rwanda around the same time, 2009, and we are still trying to effect change, partnering with people and groups committed to seeing their worlds improve. Although different vehicles, our missions are similar. It’s not surprising Elliot became a remarkable young man. His mother is a light to thousands of Africans whose world she has made better by her presence on this planet.
On a beautiful, sunny day in Portland, surrounded by hundreds of people who loved Elliot and Ken and Kelly, we grieved and laughed and remembered for the family, for Elliot. Ken, Elliot’s father, talked to us about how he was blessed to take Elliot to school most every day from the time he was in kindergarten until he was in middle school. On the way to school, Ken talked to Elliot about how Elliot could make someone’s day better that day. Could he offer a word of encouragement? Could he stand up for someone who needed an ally? Could he just make someone laugh? Every day on the way home, they would talk about how Elliot made the world a better place that day.
Shouldn’t that be our lesson from this tragedy? Shouldn’t that be the way we honor this young man’s legacy? Will it be?
In the beautiful program from the celebration, the Bean’s write:
“Elliot was our golden boy. He was seldom cross, and he was always curious and willing. He consistently spoke kindly of others, and he was exceedingly patient as a child. Elliot grew up to be a wonderful, imperfect, glorious man. He lived and loved life fully and wanted those he loved to be well and to do well. Elliot, in your honor, may we all strive to shine as brightly as you did. May we dance with sheer abandon, may we care for each other and ourselves in ways that would bring you peace and make you proud.”
Today…and every day…can we remember these words? Can we take a moment to offer a kind word, to reach out and help someone who is struggling? Can we take a deep breath when we’re angry and try to see the world through the other’s lens? Can we just offer light when things are darkest around us? Not just for today, but for every day. Not just for Elliot and the family, but for us and the world around us. What if everyone held onto this one simple question, what are you doing today to make the world a better place?
