My friend,

it has only been a couple of days since you left us, and your absence is weighing heavy on me.

I may have known you for what feels like a short time in the span of our lives but I am so glad I got to call you my friend. Your intelligence and wittiness never failed to impress me. People with that kind of curiosity for life are rare and we shared so much in that spirit. A way of appreciating and looking at art and culture, putting thoughts to writing, listening to and sharing music we discovered, navigating the everyday challenges and thoughts that come with being a millennial and laughing at the absurdity of this crazy journey life is sometimes. I hold our conversations dearly.

We also carried the same burden of living with a chronic illness that shaped our lives in ways few others truly understand. And while I will remember you for everything I mentioned and more, we were undeniably part of the same "Schicksalsgemeinschaft", like a family by fate as we say in German.

It was just about to be summer when you left us. I hope that wherever your soul is now, it is summer there too. That the sun is shining. That you have that Aperol Spritz in hand, the one we talked about drinking during an Italian sunset with the occasional cigarette. That you have your camera with you, endless freedom in your heart with all the places you ever wanted to visit suddenly within reach. Some music playing, always.

We can only speculate what comes after we leave this earth but I'm certain that if there is something, you will be there waiting for us on the other side.

Until then, fly high.
Lina

This is how I will always remember Dax.. behind the wheel of a sports car, ripping through the lush scenery of the Southern California canyons.

I have spent days trying to put into words what Dax meant to me. It has been difficult because he was the most radically unique person I have ever met, with such an incredible range of passions. I never expected the sadness of not having him in my life.

With our shared careers in IT, he offered insights that shaped my work while pushing me to value myself more than many companies had. His informed opinions, relentless focus on his health, and desire to understand the world inspired me to expect more from myself.

His love of music rivaled anyone I have known. His passion for photography made even a mundane gate at the end of a driveway seem interesting through his perspective, and his spontaneous nature led us on unforgettable adventures. Dax introduced me to new places, incredible food, amazing people, and views of the world I otherwise never would have experienced.

No one has made me more aware of my own ethos and what I want from this life. I only wish I could have helped him more in his times of need.

I can say Dax was kind, and he was, but what I cherished more than anything about him was his desire to challenge everyone and everything. Not with the intention of being insulting, but with a desire for others to really examine their thoughts, while also adeptly critiquing his own. We often connected most when we disagreed. His philosophical mind frequently changed my perspective, and his humor and wit were unmatched.

Even these words cannot fully capture the friend Dax was to me.

I love you like a brother, Dax. Thank you for changing the way I see the world. I miss you, and I will never be behind the wheel of a car without you in the back of my mind.

To your family, thank you for sharing him with us. Please know how deeply he loved you, and don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything. Sending all my love.

Brother. What a hard path traveled. I’m sorry we had to meet each other in what was arguably the hardest times of our lives. You raised money for Nikita’s treatment. You had a pure soul. You helped me and encouraged me. You believed I would be okay despite you not giving yourself the same grace. Thank you for our conversations and our banter. Thank you for educating me and encouraging me. Rest in peace brother. My deepest condolences to his family. Your son was a good man.

It's hard to accept that Dax is gone. I knew him only as an acquaintance, one who loved cars and technology. He was thoughtful and well spoken. My thoughts are with him and his family.

Uncle Denny and I were so terribly sad to hear of Dax’s death. Our hearts go out to you and Steve, and the rest of the family. Praying that your family will be surrounded by love and caring during this difficult this difficult time.

Dax and I met during what were probably the darkest and loneliest times of our lives. I still remember his first words: “We have to be courageous.” He was full of hope and determined to get us to a better place. It didn’t take long before he became my light in the darkness. He was genuinely kind and wanted to help everyone going through the same illness as we were. He even raised money for his friend in Russia so he could receive treatment, and set up a website to help people with post-LASIK complications.
Dax always put others before himself. He told me I would be okay, even though he often didn’t believe he would be, no matter how much I tried to encourage him. He was a social butterfly, intelligent, well-spoken, honest, empathetic, and incredibly funny. We shared the same humor, and I can’t count how many times he made me laugh, even while he carried an intense sadness that no one seemed able to heal.
We had so many plans, like me visiting him in the US. He found it funny that I wanted to see Walmart, Costco, and Dollar Tree, or try every fast-food chain with him (his favorite was In-N-Out Burger). We talked about where we might live. He mentioned New York for the creative energy we both loved as photographers, or Austin because he had family there and the cost of living was lower.
He planned to visit me in Germany, but had to cancel due to deteriorating mental health. He often felt he had to mask around “normal people” and didn’t want anyone to see him that way. I’m devastated that I’ll never meet him in person. I miss him deeply, and it feels like a part of my life is gone. I will never forget him. I knew him for barely a year, yet Dax had the biggest impact on my life, and I’m trying to stay strong for him. I truly hope he is at peace now, no more suffering, wherever he may be.

“I didn’t know Dax personally – we exchanged messages on WhatsApp over several months. What undoubtedly connected us from the very beginning was the shared fate we carried because of our illness and the experiences that came with it, shaping both of us.
Dax was a truly unique person: funny, supportive, and more willing to endure things for others than he ever was for himself.
With his experience and his encouraging words, he helped me gain access to a treatment that otherwise would have remained out of reach for me in Germany. And when I finally received it, he called me “Maverick.” I actually had to Google what that meant! I was so proud of myself.
And when I told him that my medication had caused my hair to fall out and that I constantly had to check my appearance in the little pocket mirror I always carried with me (our vanity was something we had in common), his response was: “Soon you’ll look like Gollum, and that pocket mirror is your Precious.”
It was the first time in months that I had been able to laugh about anything.
So yes, he was a very special person, and I will always remember him.
– Steffi, Saarbrücken, Germany

OBITUARY

Dax Wellington Grove

June 22, 1990 – June 21, 2026

Pierce Brothers Valley Oaks-Griffin Memorial Park, Mortuary & Crematory

Show your support

Add a Memory

Share Obituary

Get Reminders

Services