In Loving Memory of David Xavier Navarro, 6.30.88 - 5.11.20

In every sense of the word, David was an older brother to me. I grew up alongside David, he fostered my love for movies—every Saturday night we’d watch a movie together. Monday and Friday nights were for WWE. We played every Xbox and Playstation game there was. He shared with me his love for music—“Xavi Dinamita” would spend hours with me making beats on his computer. Despite being 10 years older than me, we were inseparable. 

David had every reason to not be as high-spirited as he was. Abandoned by his mother, he was raised by my uncle and grandmother. As a child, he was diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, a rare disease that progressively deteriorates the body’s muscles. I only knew David while he was wheelchair-bound. In January 2014, not long after we wrapped up Fast and Furious 6, David’s lungs suddenly failed him and he was rushed to the hospital. For the next 6 years, David would remain hospitalized, connected to a ventilator. 6 years. His sickness tore a hole through my family’s spirit.  David's father quit his job and dutifully cared forhim every single day until March when visitors were barred from visiting the hospital in light of COVID-19. Last night, David passed away. 

Today, my family woke up unsure how to mourn. We didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. Recently, many of us have become numb to death. Every day, we tune in to the news that hundreds more have lost their lives. It is sometimes hard to grasp that every single one of those deaths leaves behind a vast network of heartbreak and loss. My family is unable to fully mourn David’s loss at a time when COVID prohibits our large family from coming together. Despite that, funeral plans must move forward. My family would appreciate any support as we also deal with the financial hardships that comes with COVID. 


I will forever miss you and your company David, take care of me from above.