Matthew Caleb Moore

Matt,

I once saw a joke that read:

Tall people: Where the family meets if someone gets lost in a crowd.

I immediately thought of you and your quirky personality.  When the family got together, you never failed at making me laugh one way or another.

When you and Radawn moved to Florida, you took away one of my girls, but I was thrilled when you guys came back!

I am happy that you were a part of our lives, even if it was only for a short period of time.

There'll always be a part of you through the lives of your children; family will always be family.  May your soul rest in peace.

Radawn, I love you, Abby, Zach, and Logan.  Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you guys.  I'll always be here for you.

Love Always,

Aunt Sherry

RADAWN AND CHILDREN.  I AM SO SORRY FOR OUR LOSS.  MATT WAS SUCH A JOY TO BE AROUND.  WHEN HE AND MARK WERE VERY YOUNG WE WOULD TRAVEL TO DENVER FROM LOUISIANA TO VISIT FAMILY THERE.  WE WOULD GO CAMPING, FISHING, SHOPPING….JUST DOING FUN THINGS.  OVER THE YEARS WE HAVE NOT SPENT AS MUCH TIME TOGETHER BUT WHEN WE DID, IT WAS JUST LIKE OLD DAYS.  MATT WILL BE MISSED BY SO MANY.  I KNOW I WILL MISS HIM VERY MUCH.  HE LOVED HIS FAMILY SO VERY MUCH.  AT A TIME LIKE THIS ONE DOES NOT KNOW WHAT TO SAY EXCEPT THAT TO SAY YOU HAVE MY LOVE AND MY PRAYERS DURING THIS TIME AND IN THE DAYS TO COME.

We were looking to buy a house a few years ago, and we came out of one house we had just checked out when this guy comes running up: "Hey! You have kids! They look like they're about the same age as my kids. You should buy this house. My kids need more kids to play with." We ended up buying the house, and then found out that Matt was not only our new neighbor, he was also on the high school swim team with my husband (Mike was older and hazed him, something Matt didn't let him forget).

I know is laughing now at the moral dilemma I'm facing considering his request for people to donate to the NRA in his name. Matt and I spent a lot of time in the front yard (when our kids were playing together) discussing our different political opinions. Matt collected guns, I am such a pacifist I avoid stepping on ants. Matt was a strong republican, I come from a family of democrats (my grandfather even delivered a former democratic governor). But no matter our difference of opinons Matt always wanted to know the why behind my very different beliefs, and I learned a lot about why he believed what he did.

Radawn, Mike and I are here for you. Please let us know how we can help.

Abby, Zach and Logan, your dad loved you all so much. He would have done anything to protect you, and now he can watch out for you 24/7 no matter where you go (Abby, think about your dad chasing down the guys he doesn't think are good enough for you…which will be all guys.) If you need anything our door is always open (and just a few feet away!). Derek Ellie and Adan are very sorry for your loss and are there if you want to talk to someone closer to your age.

The cul-de-sac is much too quiet lately, and no one is running around in the snow barefooted in only their swim trunks in the front yard anymore. We will miss you Matt.

All our love,

Kimberly Roy and family

I am so very thankful that we got to spend so much time with you recently.  Having lost my own brother 11 years ago we really had some great heart to heart talks even just a few days ago.  Macy and Chandler will forever remember the sleepovers with you.  You will be greatly missed but your death won't be in vain.  RIP my dear brother-in-law!

News of your passing totally shocked and saddened me.  Although you didn't work with us, Radawn did, and she became our little sister.  You always joined our zany antics and we loved you for it.  Radawn, although distant, I am here if you need us.

Rest in peace, dear friend! In the knowledge that you left your mark here on Earth and in the hearts of many.

Iris Rivera

We are deeply saddened by the news of Matthew's passing. Our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this time of sorrow.

Sincerely,

Dr. Derek Straffon and Team

I am so very sorry for your loss. I know he loved you all with every inch of his heart and will continue to look out for you from above.

Matt, you will be missed.  

My heart goes out to you Radawn and to the kids.  Please let me know if there is anything at all I can do for you.

Our Throughts and prayers are with the Moore's family in this time of saddness  We will always remember how much Matt loved to bring his kids to work and show them off.

Radawn and Family, My thoughts and prayers are with you. Please take comfort in knowing Matt will be missed.

In Sympathy,

Ben & Denice Fiscus

We worked with Matt at Noble Energy.  He was very intelligent and I never met anyone better at Microsoft Excel than Matt.  I called him our human data mart because he analyzed and managed large volumes of data.  He frequently made us laugh and brought us fabulous baked goods made by Radawn.  When he was not talking about work, he mainly talked about his family.  It was very clear how much he adored his family.  You will be missed by many.  Deepest sympathy to Matt's family and friends.

I really enjoyed playing Call of Duty with my daddy and I will miss him.

I Love you Dad!

It's always tough on a kid when they move. Add in that you and your dad move while your mom and sisters stay behind to sell the house and it gets harder. Do it in the middle of the school year – Spring Break even – and you wouldn't want to wish it on any kid.  Well, that happened to me, and in 7th grade, no less.  I still remember walking into Flood Middle School's lunch room and looking for a place to sit.  I found a table on one of the landings where there were four other boys sitting.  I didn't exactly fit in, coming from a small town, but they let me join them – to the protesting of one of the pairs.  You see, they were in pairs because there were two Jason's and two Matt's.  The Jason's weren't keen on the idea, but one of the Matt's told them off and said I was “okay.”  

I met Matt Moore when I was 12 years old.  We were fast friends.

We were good friends, too.  Unlike Matt, or even most of our other friends, I didn't have a brother.  A best friend was an important thing for a growing boy.  There were lots of things that we both went through at the same time. Over the years, we shared lots of stories – even if they weren't all good stories.

Matt and I rode our bikes a lot.  We both enjoyed our mountain bikes and got new ones early on at Englewood High School. We competed often to get to places first, whether that was racing the older kids in their cars to get to Little Caesar's Pizza first for Crazy Bread (I still have no idea what it was about Crazy Bread), or to Cinderella City to play a video game or wander around Cinder-Alley. May days after school, Matt, Matt (Peterson – the other Matt from that first meeting) would take off on the bike paths of the Southern Denver Suburbs, sometimes finding ourselves all the way up to the foothills.  We used to take turns crashing – trying to remember whose turn it was and always hoping it was Peterson's turn. He gave me a hard time because I always had the most spectacular crashes. On one trip, I crashed so hard on our way to a movie at Bear Valley (in the “Sombrero” park) that I don't even remember all the things I said while writhing on the ground. But I do remember seeing Matt laughing and “shhhh-ing” me.  Later he said he had no Idea I knew all those curse words and that he thought I had even made up some new ones.

One day, we were racing to I-don't-remember-where and were headed down the bike path that ran under Broadway and emptied out into a parking lot next to Hampden.  As we came out, I decided to cut him off by swinging close to the Ponderosa restaurant.  There's no way I would have known that they had spilled their grease all over the street and then tried to wash it down the drain. I hit it, and had one of those “spectacular” crashes.  Well, my left arm wouldn't work. I couldn't imagine that it was broken so I asked Matt to find me a ride at the Englewood Police Station (since I couldn't reach my parents). I didn't wait too long until I heard sirens.  Sure enough, an ambulance and fire engine came racing my direction. I thought, “There's no way those are for me.” That was, until I saw Matt peddling his legs off trying to keep up.  When he pulled up just as the paramedics got to me, he apologized profusely for making it such a big production.

Matt was older than me by a couple of months so he was the first one to drive.  He sure made a statement with that too.  That 1977 Ford Bronco was HUGE and we spent many trips piled in headed to lunch or wherever.  One time at McDonald's on Hampden, I bet that I could eat more catsup packets with my small fries than anyone else.  27 packets later, I had won – or lost, depending on how you look at it. He showed me up later by squeezing more high-schoolers than that in – or on in some cases – in his Bronco. I had my usual seat for an overstuffed Ford that day – sitting on the spare tire, feet in the back, holding on the cargo rack. Oh, there are so many reasons we should've never made it to graduation.

The closest call was during senior finals.  I was driving my Jeep that day and we decided to speed up Broadway to Pizza Hut for the lunch buffet.  It was just him and me in that 1974 CJ5, with no top and lap belts only.  As we crossed over Hamden, in front of the Army Surplus store, the light turned yellow and the car in front of us came to a sudden halt.  I quickly changed lanes, swerving, tilting the jeep sideways to get behind the other car that appeared to be speeding through the intersection, but they started stopping too.  I slammed on the breaks (which was a bad idea in an old car like that) and the wheels locked up. We started into a full skid. With no power steering, no power breaks, our momentum had us flying forward.  We were sure we were done for – that big steel front bumper was gonna plow through the two cars, we were gonna get tossed in two halves through the windshield. My short life passed before my eyes – as did the drivers of the two cars….  With no doors on the Jeep, we had a clear view of the giant eyes on the occupants of the two other cars as we fully squealed past and skidded to an unmolested stop – right in the middle of the intersection.  We had missed both cars by fractions of inches.  Mouths agape, we looked at each other in shock. We cursed, prayed, chuckled, and choked.  I shifted, floored it, and we headed off North, laughing the whole way.  I was never so convinced that we had the hardest working guardian angels around.

Matt liked to laugh. On one blizzard filled ski trip up to Winter Park, he played a cassette tape full of old comedy he'd recorded off of his Grandpa's records. I'd never heard of “Brother Dave” or George Carolin before.  I never knew Bill Cosby had done anything before his HBO special “Himself”.  To this day I can't get out a bottle of Pace without hearing him say, “Salsa sauce” like that poor dog in one of Carolin's sketches, or talk about snakes without chuckling about one of them givin' “a snaky lick – bla-la-la-la”, or even cook chicken without wondering what happened to the chicken heart and that poor janitor.

We didn't always make each other laugh, though.  Matt was 50% responsible for the loss of my first ever girlfriend – and my first broken heart.  While I never wanted to know all the details of how it all went down, when I found out, I decided to confront him about it.  Mark, Matt's brother, probably remembers being asked along to the “movies” with Matt and I, as well as another friend.  I'm not very proud of calling him out of the car in a parking lot and threatening him. I'm not proud of getting back in the car after he admitted what he'd done and making him sit there while I said nothing as he said over and over in the back seat, “You hate me, don't you. I know you do. I don't blame you. You hate me.” What he didn't know was that I had already forgiven him and had to work hard at not smiling – or laughing out loud, which was close too. I had to give him some time to stew but couldn't leave it that way.  We were best friends, and I reminded him so just a couple of days later.

In school, most of Matt's friends shared something with him.  They were in band with him.  They were on the swim team with him.  I didn't.  I always figured that there was something else that we shared.  I still don't know exactly what that was.  Maybe it was Taco Bell.  Just about everybody in our circle ended up working there at one time or another. How he could get up and go before school I never knew.

Matt was also my only ever dive buddy.  While Matt and others went SCUBA diving after our school trips to Cozumel, I never did. He was there when I sucked down half a tank of air when we went around a cave corner and were eye to eye with some huge tarpons, when the crazy dive guide pulled a shark out from under a rock by his tail and it swam in between us to get away, or when Jerry fed all those fish through is regulator.

As we got older, we headed off to different colleges.  One Halloween, while Matt was in Boulder, I decided to show Matt some of the things I had learned in ROTC. It probably wasn't a good idea for a couple of guys in SWAT costumes to repel down an apartment building in a town known for its “non-medicinal herbal supplements”, but we had fun, even if the folks who, for some reason, all flushed their toilets as we swung by didn't.

I helped him enjoy country music. He always loved jazz. I was always jealous of how he could just sit down at a piano and play. I never had his musical ability.  Even though he was a good trumpet player and drum major, his sense of rhythm never translated well to his feet.  The man was not a good dancer.  Although Radawn may argue, I know better.  She was not an impartial judge.  He'd try, though.  He had this goofy move to make fun of himself.  He'd kinda' bend his knees to the side and give a two-handed “six-gun” shot with a wink.  It was ridiculous, but it was fun, too.

Further along in life, and thanks to some of those goofy dance moves, Matt had started a family while I was off playing Army.  While there were times that he said he lived vicariously through me, he never really knew that I was still just looking forward to having what he had.

Life got heavy for Matt, especially recently. I was thinking about it on our long drive back from Kansas earlier this week.  What do you say at a time like this? How do you know what will happen next for Matt?  I was reminded of a story Jesus told to his disciples, onlookers, and especially some pharoses.  We know this story as the parable of the Prodigal Son. Some may think this story applies to Matt's situation.  I think it applies to all of our situations.  You see, the story isn't about the son who got lost.  And he didn't even get lost – he left. Deliberately. Spitefully. He left.  But he came back, right? Matt didn't come back.  Actually, the wayward son never made it back to his father.

“What?!” you may say? “But the party, the ring.”

No, he didn't make it there.  He thought about going back to his father's property, but not his father. He may have been on his way to ask for a job, but certainly not to ask to be a son again.  And he never got there. If anybody had passed this son on the road, they wouldn't have recognized him.  He probably still stank, was dressed in rags, nothing like the finery he'd left in or partied in.  And he almost certainly looked dejected, probably keeping his head low in sadness, shame, and despair.

You see, the story isn't about this son.  And before you go putting yourself in the camp of the “son who stayed home,” remember that he was bitter for working so hard and not getting a party himself.  He, too, only wanted the “stuff” of the father, not the father himself.

The hero and true subject of this story is the father. Our Father.  It's about the love this father had for his children, even those who had once been his child and then tried to get as far away from the family as possible.  

The prodigal didn't make it back to the father because the father came to him.  He saw him “a long way off” it says.  While nobody else would have recognized the boy, the father did.  The son didn't have to make it back to the dwelling place of the father.  The father, forsaking all ancient traditions of what he should have done, loved the son so much that he ran out to meet him while he was still away.  

The love didn't stop there, you know. You see, the father didn't require for his son to be washed before he put the best robe on him.  The son's hands, which assuredly were crusted with muck from the pigs and filth from the hard life, were not ceremonially washed before the family ring was put back on his finger.  The tale is a tale of the unrelenting, uncontainable love of a father.  Our Father.  A Father who knows those who are in his family, even when they forget, or try to forget.

I don't know how to judge Matt's, or anyone's salvation.  But I do know the nature of the One who saves.  And He is a Father who looks for and runs to His children even when they're a long way off.  Because of a love like that, the only love like it in existence, I have hope – hope for Matt and hope for me.  And I want to share that hope with everyone I can.

Matt was always a great friend!  We had a lot of good times together out shooting, skiing, and having good times. I am going to miss the good times that we had!  Don't worry I will be cleaning some guns when Abby goes out on her first date with a boy to scare him.  I will always be in debt to you for helping to get me to see the doctor for my tumor.  I know that you will be looking over your family and friends and watching out for all of us!  I will help watch out for your family down here! You will be missed!

So Matt, you really don't need to check the emails I send you for proper grammar and spelling.  REALLY, it's email!

Thank you for making me run around your truck just as the eye of hurricane Charlie was over the top of Orlando.  I'm glad you went with me so I didn't blow away in the storm.    

Hmmmm, unless of course that was your intention, I am your mother-in-law and you know what they say about mother-in-laws.

Star gazing was the best!  You seem to know all the constellations and were so eager to share them with us.  You will be in my thoughts when I look up at the night sky.

I'll miss our bantering.     I'll miss you.     You will forever be in our hearts.

Love & Hugs!