As many of you have heard, our beloved colleague and friend, David Ludwig passed away last weekend, after a brave battle with ALS. Dave served Calvary Christian School for an incredible 21 years, during which time he touched the lives of countless students, colleagues, and families. Dave was also a precious member of the Palisades community, having coached countless baseball teams and mentored so many children and parents.  

 Above all, David was a man of unwavering faith and was an incredible husband and father. He lived his life guided by the principles of kindness, compassion, and love, inspiring all those around him to do the same. Even in the face of adversity, David's faith remained steadfast, serving as a beacon of hope and strength for everyone who knew him. His profound faith was not just a part of his life; it was the essence of who he was—a testament to his remarkable character and integrity.

So many have reached out to ask what can we do to help his treasured wife Victory and their four children as they bravely face the journey ahead.   There are three things that you can do to put your mourning to good use.  

1. Pray for Victory, Lily, Sofia, Violet and Becker.  That they continue to shine that Ludwig love and lean into their faith, as Dave always did.

2.  Get Busy Living.  That was Dave's motto.  Invest in your relationships with those you love, deepen your faith in God and don't sweat the small stuff.

3.  If you feel moved to donate to the on-going needs of The Ludwig family, please donate here.  Victory will continue to raise her four children on her own and every penny will go to the care and education of her children in the near and long term.

Dave's Memorial Service will be held at Calvary Christian Church on Saturday, June 22 at 1pm in Pacific Palisades.  All are welcome.

Let us honor David's memory by embodying the values he held dear—kindness, compassion, love, and faith—and by continuing the important work he dedicated his life to.

With Gratitude,

Erin & Chase Ahders, Annie & Kevin Barnes, Lorie & Jerry Cudzil, Joanna & Jeff Ennis, Alison & Brooks Hansen, Kelly & Mark Holscher, Kathy & Erik Rolle and Seem & Jason Wolsefer

Finally, please read Victory's latest Caring Bridge post below.  

How are we doing?

The interesting thing about this journey - this story we never would have written for ourselves - is that we knew it was coming. The fact that we are not sitting here, reeling in shock, is something.  

Sadness.

We are sad. Dave was the light and life of our family. He made everything more vibrant and colorful. We will miss him every single day. And while we know he left an undeniable mark on those who knew him, especially the young people whom he had the joy of teaching, life will never be quite the same again.

Grief.

The interesting thing is that I have already been in the process of grief for months. Once we knew this was coming, there was work to be done to prepare our hearts for this moment. That was part of our "doing this well" was to have hard conversations that would set us up for the "other side." There was no freedom to ignore what was happening before our very eyes. His decline was quick and it was not hard to see what was coming. It was sooner than we may have thought, but I started my own grief journey months ago. In recent weeks, I have likened Dave to watching a dandelion get blown off the stem. Little fragments of him have been fading over the past few weeks, and while it broke my heart, it also brought a strange comfort that his suffering was going to end.

Relief.

To watch his body break down, to not know what the next symptom would be, but to know it was coming was awful. The last week took its toll on all of us. He was never comfortable. To imagine him having to lose the last of his mobility (head control, swallowing, etc) and his dignity was hard to bear. It is like he was able to get out of that body before it got that much worse. I am thankful.

Acceptance.

To watch him in his commitment to stay positive - which he did so beautifully well - while his body grew weaker and weaker was miraculous. Dave is NOT go with the flow. He is a man of large reactions - ask anyone who saw him on a sports field. And yet, I believe that the pace of his decline forced him to lean into it all, to accept, and to model that for us. We knew it was coming. We did not have the luxury of denying what was happening . And while it hits me afresh many times throughout the day that he isn't coming home, we have known this day would come. And we have already been working on accepting this reality.

Anger.

I've been angry at 2023. That was a hard and dark year. The unknowns of his early symptoms - all of the doctor's appointments and no answers. The confusion and misdiagnoses. It was torturous. And it was mostly privately held between us. And it was hard. I am thankful that with the eventual clarity of the worst possible diagnosis came a turning in Dave, an open-heartedness coupled with a humble resolve to "do this well" - so we could leave the darkness of 2023 behind. But I am still ticked that our last full year together had an undertone of fear and frustration. 

Gratitude.

I got to spend more than half of my 45 years married to the best man I know. He shaped me. I shaped him. We were partners, best friends. We truly, without a doubt, made each other better. Anyone who knows us well and has known us for any length of time would attest to that. I am thankful I got to serve him, up until his final breath. I watched him pass over into eternity. Into glory. I also proved to myself that I am stronger than I knew myself to be. And I am going to need that for all of the tomorrows.

Tired.

It is just starting to hit me, just how tired I am. To my core tired. I have held our little world on my shoulders for the past few months, so I am now trying to let myself stop and be tired. And do some self care that is long overdue. And while I praise God for adrenaline that is a God-given coping mechanism, I am also practicing stillness. It feels good.

Peace.

Please do not think that I have not had my "I hope what we believe to be true is actually true" moments. I have. And will. But, the peace I feel, that deep down in-my-bones peace, and the clarity of mind that comes with it is inexplicable. There is NO WAY I would feel the deep peace I do if God was not near. He is real. He is near. He is the great comforter.  

I have told the kids that we are all allowed to think/say/do what we need to. As long as it is not destructive. I will watch out for them and they will watch out for me, just like we talked about with Dave in the recent weeks. There is not a guidebook for how to walk your children through losing a parent. But we will hold space for each other. We will practice extending grace. We will keep talking, and breathing, and feeling. and distract ourselves when that is what we need to do. And we will recognize that we all get to do this at our own pace, and in our own time. And we will love each other big and messy, just like we always have.