Edward Avery Wyatt VI

Edward Avery Wyatt VI (June 10, 1972 – November 24, 2022) was a loving, kind, generous, insightful, compassionate, dutiful, hilariously funny, and wicked smart born-and-bred North Carolinian. He was honest, sincere, and full of integrity both in his professional life as a respected attorney across North Carolina, Georgia, and Washington, D.C., and in his personal life as an all-around good dude.

He was a man of God simply by word and by deed (plus a profound love of dogs). He had an enviable sense of style, his own blend of metro southern gentleman (complete with a meticulous skin care regimen). He had extraordinary taste in music, a gift he loved to share and defended vigorously. He could talk to anyone about anything, and he made it interesting by being earnestly interested.

In fact, one would be hard-pressed to meet Edward Wyatt and not want to be his friend. He had an uncanny ability to connect with you on a personal level, whether it was knowing a little-known fact about the town you grew up in or loving the same great band or asking a follow up question drawn from when you last spoke. He listened. He made you feel at ease and made you laugh. A lot. He had an outstanding sense of humor, a razor-sharp wit, and delighted in the absurd and sophomoric. He made storytelling an art, and anyone reading this can surely recall their favorite with a smile … maybe a smile as bright as his. That. Smile. When Edward's light shined upon you, it was easy to forget what darkness even felt like.

And the unique beauty of Edward's light was that it wasn't reserved for fancy people or people who might help him or those who thought they were important. His light was for everyone … from the guy on the street who just needed to be seen to his very best friend.

And how lucky if you were among the many friendships he nurtured throughout his lifetime. As Clarence the angel so wisely said, "Remember, no man is a failure who has friends." And just like George Bailey, Edward Wyatt was the richest man in town. He was intentional, loyal, and genuine – showing up to visit new houses, to toast new jobs, to celebrate marriages, babies, birthdays, retirements, going-away parties, just about anything – often with a case of beer or a bottle of bourbon (or both). He showed up to mourn and grieve and sometimes just be, too. His friends were family, so Edward showed up for the small stuff and the big stuff all the same.

The big stuff in his life came into focus a little later than others. He met Kate, fellow JMU grad and lover of Goldens, just in time to spend eleven glorious, fun-filled, travel-heavy, deeply committed years as husband and wife. His son, Beau, and his furry son, Hank, were his pride and joy, and the years he spent heading up "The Three Bulls" were among his happiest and most fulfilling. He was grateful for and proud of the family he came from – loving parents, brothers, uncles, aunts, and cousins – and the one he built. Rest assured, he remains utterly devoted to loving them all from the other side.

Edward's too-soon, wildly unfair passing at age 50 after just a 10-month battle with Glioblastoma will always be profoundly tragic and downright heartbreaking. Yet his life here on Earth was anything but. So please honor his good name and celebrate his indelible spirit by living your life to its fullest. Love deeply and faithfully. Laugh often and with abandon. Crack jokes. Forgive swiftly. Travel. Read. Never stop being a student of the world. Don't take yourself too seriously. Tuck your shirt in. Live beneath your means. Save. Be a good and kind soul to everyone you meet. Put God first. Go to church, walk the walk. Show up. Show up for all of it. Sing along. Turn it up. Tell stories. Tell 'em again. Order another Old Fashioned. Root for the underdog (especially Wake). Give generously (especially when it comes to snout rubs and belly scratches). Say his name. To Kate, to Beau, to each other – as often as you can. Talk about him, talk to him. Make certain he is remembered. Be the most loving husband, father, son, brother, and friend as you can, just as he was.