Everlasting life. It’s a phrase you tend to hear when some passes away. But really getting your mind around the concept, well, that’s another story. Or at least it was to me – until Bo Busby’s passing.

Friends encouraged me to write a profile about Bo some time ago. They found him to be an inspiration and wanted others to hear his story. As a reporter at the time, people tell you this type of thing on a pretty regular basis – and frequently one’s goodness is exaggerated for coverage’s sake.

Not so with Bo.

They say the heart remembers, and there are key things from that interview I know I’ll never forget. First, there’s the way he battled his affliction with such bravery. “If I were cured tomorrow, I don't think I would change the way I approach life – as a precious gift,” Bo said in our June 2005 interview. “Every day isn’t earned, it’s a gift.”

That wasn’t to say he didn’t acknowledge the limitations the once strapping young man faced.

“I'm dealing with the frustrations of not being able to do things I used to be able to do,” Busby said. “I gave up golf, fishing, riding bikes with the kids, snow skiing...” But Bo managed to credit Lou Gehrig’s with leading him to take stock of what matters most. “Today, I'm content with today,” he said.

There’s also the way he loved his family.

Not once did Bo complain about his condition, or express any concerns for himself and his certain fate with a slow, painful death. The one true worry he shared was for his children. He wanted to make sure their college educations were financially accounted for.

And the one time he struggled to find the right words was when he talked about his wife, Kerri. He gladly shared the story of their courtship and marriage, but stumbled when it came to discussing how tremendous of a rock she had been to him always – especially throughout the onset of ALS.

On one hand, he confided how he didn’t want to burden her with his growing physical limitations. But he didn’t really want to say it that way because he didn’t want to slight her strength and courage, which he found so remarkable.

That kind of sensitivity was another trademark of Bo’s – and it certainly must have guided him when he led the charge to rally an army of volunteers and transform the home of a fellow Austinite with ALS. Bo’s leadership helped gather 150 volunteers, raise $50,000, and completely remodel a home in the span of just one week.

Just one week and can-do attitude. That’s all it took Bo to have a lasting impact and dramatically improve the quality of life for a fellow family.

At this time I’m reminded of the sentiments a preacher shared at another funeral I attended recently, also for a man that left us at an early age. He said life isn’t about the number of years you’re here, it’s what you do with them that matters. In business terms, it’s the classic quality vs. quantity argument.

That leads me back to the concept of everlasting life. Really, it’s hard to fathom. But I can get my head around what I’ve witnessed: some people are special enough to make the kind of impact that’s felt long after their time on earth is gone.

Unquestionably Bo’s legacy will have that kind of everlasting presence with all of us that knew him, and even others inspired by his good deeds.

Bo leaves a beautiful family, one he’ll watch, guide and protect from above.

Richard Hill credits Bo with launching the corporate services division of Hill Partners, calling it an “evergreen” operation sure to thrive for years to come.

Other friends note knowing Bo made them better people, which to me is one of the highest compliments one human being can bestow upon another.

“The example he put before us facing death is the example all of us should use to live our lives going forward,” friend Volney Campbell said. “He did not let adversity weigh him down, and his charity towards others has inspired many to strive to emulate those qualities.”

Tom Tagliabue said: “His courage, determination, strength, spirit, humor, confidence, love and sacrifice demonstrated how to live life to its fullest and to show the powerful life-changing impacts from the actions of one individual.”

It seems fitting that at the time of Bo’s passing, I was in the midst of making Christmas ornaments as presents for my friends. From now on, every time I see an evergreen tree, I will think of Bo. They’re such tall, quiet, hearty trees – green with life and strength all year round. But somehow it’s in the dead of winter, when so many other signs of life fade, that we’re in most awe of their beauty.

Click here to see a short video with words from and about Bo Busby and the Foundation named in his honor.