Today, our community lost a young man before his time. An 18 year old, with his whole life ahead of him, lost his battle with leukemia. I am saddened for several reasons. I mourn for his family, friends and classmates who have lost a piece of their hearts. I am sad that leukemia still is in existence. It is the illness that took my grandfather's life and the life of a dear friend. Selfishly, I am sad because it makes me think of losing one of my best friends way too young when we were roughly the same age...and I've never completely gotten over it. And I hope I never will.
He was young and strong and smart mouthed and handsome. He and I had been friends and bitter dueling saxophone rivals since the sixth grade. He called me "Bobo" after we learned it meant "stupid fool" in Spanish class. He was the only one on earth I would have allowed to call me that. Walking around in Addidas indoor soccer shoes and a jean jacket with a "Billy Bob" pin from Showbiz Pizza, he was the coolest guy in class. Girls swooned and guys wished they were him. One night he, and four other people, went driving around town. Youth brings with it a fair amount of folly and of feelings of invincibility. Our town had a road, with a hill, that was known to all the young drivers as a place to drive fast, catch air and get a thrill. There had been wrecks there before, but nothing terribly noteworthy. This particular night, the five of them did what so many had done before: hit the proper speed, hit the bump and caught air. But this time went terribly and tragically wrong. The loss of control was too much to regain and they wrapped that car around a tree. Two were injured, one critically and one seriously. One had a good knock to his head and couldn't remember who he was. And two, one a school official's daughter and one being my dear friend, were fatally injured. For months, we all walked around in a fog. The devastation was almost unbearable...I cannot even imagine what his parents and brother must have felt. I questioned God as to why this happened. I argued and wrestled and doubted and raged and mourned.
But with each day, the sun came up and I was shown the beauty in life. I was shown the blessing of having known him as long as I had. I caught whispers of him in songs and expressions uttered by friends. My pain never went away and still hasn't. It has turned, instead, into a painful and beautiful scar on my heart. I often think of Steel Magnolias, as I modify the words a bit, "He will always be young...he will always be beautiful. And personally I feel much safer knowing he's up there on my side.". I pray that Josh's family feels comfort, love and peace knowing he's up there on their side. I don't pray for closure. I feel that is an overused expression used with little thought behind it. I never want closure for my friend's death. That, to me, would mean I have closed the book on his story. I refuse to do that. My children will know his story and understand its impact on my life. A memory, both bitter and sweet, that has changed me to my very core. I hope Josh's friends will share his story with their friends and family and children and they gain the distance and perspective that time provides.
God bless his friends and family...and the friends and family of my friend, 23 years later.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Couldn't help weeping with your words. Death always hurts, but it seems like the death of the young is a sharper, deeper pain.
ReplyDeleteThank you God for carrying us when we are too lost in our pain keep going ourselves.