LOST, for now (spoiler alert)

Last night was the series finale of LOST, the six-year saga of castaways from a plane crash to an island shrouded in mystery. Over that time, almost every episode brought about a whole new batch of questions: What was this mysterious power of the island? Why were these seemingly random people oddly connected before they even boarded the plane? How would the skeletons in their closet of broken relationships, personal failures and tragic disappointments get resolved?

The conclusion left much unanswered. But what does get revealed is a parallel reality for the main characters, where they are given the chance to make the choices they couldn't make in real life. And specifically, we understand that almost the entire complicated story of supernatural beings, time travel and lonely people were all side stories to that of the main protagonist, Jack. When the show ends, he is finally able to let go of his disappointment in himself and his failures in a last act of self-sacrifice for those he loves. As he is greeted by his dead father and the people he loved into some sort of eternity, I watched and cried like a baby.

It has been one month since Hideo passed away, and I've thought about him everyday since. Over the weekend, his loved ones celebrated what would have been his 43rd birthday with an old-school party, the way he would have loved. I have felt more and more peace and acceptance of this life without Hideo, but I don't think I'll ever not feel that missing part in my heart.

Coincidentally, Hideo first lent me season 1 of LOST a few years ago and introduced me to the show. As much as the show had its share of ridiculous plot turns, we learn in the end that the fantastical world of the island was all in fact real. I wonder what reality we live in right now, that often feels so much like the only one that could exist because it's the only one we've known. We live with our day-to-day joys and pains, and we fall in love with the people around us: our dear friends and family. And when we lose them, there's no way to not wonder what all of the carefully placed chaos and joy and people we encounter are all heading towards.

What I appreciated about LOST -- the finale being no exception -- was that creators Jeffrey Lieber and Damon Lindelof thought to imagine a world outside of ours, and a reality much greater than what we can control. Though there is no mention of God, their imagination asked what the answer might be to the damage about our world. In Paul's letter to the Ephesians, he calls God "able to accomplish abundantly far more than we can ask or imagine." What they could ask and imagine is one day letting go of this reality and reuniting with lost loved ones, the prospect of which I can't even imagine the joy I might feel.

I hope for that new day when all of the mourning is over, and I'm blown away by a reality none of us could imagine possible.

Westside 'Til I Die

On Friday evening, during its 2-hour traffic time block, KDAY 93.5 FM aired a tribute to DJ Hideo: his last recorded set. I made sure to leave work at 4:55 so as not to miss a minute of this. I started my car and immediately I heard a brief summary of Hideo's influence on the hip-hop music scene in LA and on the airwaves at 100.3 FM The Beat. And with the very first song, Mark Morrison's "Return of the Mack," I suddenly felt as though he was right there in his element: spinning his favorite party jams and West Coast favorites - a set he would be remembered by. I could see him so clearly in my mind doing it, picturing his way of adjusting the platter, scratching and immaculately transitioning songs, adjusting his EQ, moving with grace and joy to the music. Heavy D, Lighter Shade of Brown, SWV, LL Cool J, 2Pac, Biggie, DJ Kool, MC Breed, Naughty, By Nature, Paperboy, Soul 4 Real, the list goes on. It was a classic Hideo set. He loved the old skool.

I texted a few friends I thought would be interested and who might be on the road to listen to notify them of the set, and got responses back: "Listening now!" "I never met him, but I feel myself tearing up." One friend tuned in with family, and updated me that they were dancing to the music. In addition to the many DJ friends I had who I knew were listening to every move of the set, tweeting their emotions through it to the rest of us, my own close friends were listening because they knew what a rough week this has been for me, and have carried this burden with me the last 14 months.

In that moment, I felt God comforting me through the music I knew we were all both mourning and celebrating to at once. I felt a strange mix of happiness and heartbreak. I remember Hideo mentioning a couple of months ago that he had been recording a bit, which I couldn't even imagine in his condition. I think he was preparing for this time, and somehow knew that this would be a comfort to his friends and his own reminder to us of what DJ-ing is all about: the love of the music. It has been a rough week, but suddenly I felt inspired to spin again. I spent a good part of today just putting songs together that I love. I wanted to honor my friend and his heart for music.

I'm so grateful that in a week of grieving, God has surrounded me with the amazing people I get to call my friends. A special shout-out to Jason, Gregg, Carlos, Pastor Ken, Debbie, Eric, Helen and Jade. Most of them have never even met Hideo, but God has given them a heart to pray for him and his family because they love me. Though I must accept that I will not see Hideo again in this life, I have felt God reminding me through these guys that he is real and with me, and that the reality of something better awaits. I have a road ahead of me as I continue to accept life without Hideo, but I won't be doing it alone.