Love.

The last 3 weeks have changed me in profound ways. I went to Peru excited for all kinds of selfish reasons. I left Peru thinking of nothing but the compassion that thrives in every corner of the world. It's sad that it takes traumatic events to learn lessons, but that's how life works sometimes.

What I'm about to say may sound weird, but I bet it's something everyone has wondered at one point or another during their life. My morbid curiosity has drifted towards questions like, "If I died, who would come to my funeral?" I confess that I have some selfish tendencies. I don't want kids because I never want to stop having fun. I don't want to spend my hard earned money on things that aren't going to make me happier. I play play play every spare minute I can because I'll sleep when I'm dead. I work out hard because I want to be in shape. Selfish. The question about the funeral- it's a bit selfish...and weird, but whatever.

When I was kneeling in the dirt in Peru asking the universe why something so horrible could happen to such a good person, I realized that none of that shit above matters. Money doesn't matter. Time doesn't matter. Running the extra mile doesn't matter (and all it'll do is hurt your knees anyways). All that mattered was love.

8 perfect strangers poured their hearts and souls into helping my friend. They kept him warm. They kept him still. They talked in soothing voices, not knowing if he could even hear them. They hugged me when I was nothing but a shaking mess. They told me everything was going to be ok, even when they had no idea. They cleared a path for the ambulance. They carried our stuff. They carried my friend, my heart, and my hopes to the waiting ambulance that took us to Cusco. They sat in the waiting room with me while I cried, and hoped, and cursed the world. They told me funny stories, when there was nothing funny to talk about. They came to visit, almost every day. They wrote us letters. They brought us sushi. They filled that little room with more love than I ever thought possible.

I can not imagine what it must have been like to be Evan's girlfriend during this ordeal. She didn't know how long he'd be gone, so she wasn't sure if she should come to Peru. She had to rely on me for up-to-minute (literally) updates on what he was doing, if he was talking, if he was eating, if he was awake, if he was sleeping....everything. She coped by creating a blog for Evan. She solicited funny photos, videos, and stories from his friends so that I could read them to him when he was awake. The amount of content she got for that thing in just a couple of days was mind blowing. Evan's friends from all over the country were sending in hilarious posts for him, trying to help cheer him up. Not only did it cheer him up, but it cheered me up. I looked at at it every few hours to see what was new, always surprised to find and read new content. All these people wanted was to give a little love, a little glimmer of something good to their friend.

When I got back to Seattle I decided I was going to host a fundraiser for Evan and his family. While we were fortunate enough to have travel insurance on our trip, the costs from everything are still going to be high. Brain scans, travel, long distance phone bills- it piles up fast. I solicited the bike industry and Evan's favorite companies for items I could raffle off at a movie premiere I'm hosting. I couldn't believe the response I got. Every single company I reached out to was willing to help. I don't know why I'm surprised at this point. People have been offering to send money, help work the event, help grocery shop, shuttle to and from work...the offers coming his way are never-ending. Evan, what did you do to make so many people love you so much? You should write a book.

My morbid self is coming back to me now. It's saying, "Lacy, if something like this ever happens to you, you'd be so fortunate to have half the love that he did." It's true. Evan's friends and amazing family never stop. Every day they bring tears to my eyes. I've never cried so much in my life (and I'm so ready to be done), but at least it's tears of happiness and bewilderment. I've learned what "love" means in a whole new way. It's undying support. It's making someone laugh when they don't think anything funny could possibly exist. It's holding someone's hand when you don't even know if they can feel it. It's people you barely know holding your head telling you everything is going to be ok, even they're not totally sure. It's the random lady in the hospital giving me a hug because I look like I really need one. It's finally letting it all out, even if it's embarrassing. It's so much more that I'm learning every single day.

Even though this has been hard, I couldn't have asked to learn a better lesson. Thank you to everyone who has helped me, my friend, his family and loved ones through this ordeal. It's been surreal, to say the least.

A special thanks goes out to the people in this photograph. Without them, I don't want to event think about what could have happened.