Saturday, September 1st, 1:30 PM....a good friend of mine drowned trying to cross a lake in a nearby town.
When I first heard it, my mind immediately said it wasn't true. I was shocked and it didn't feel right. I thought it must not be true because I'm not reacting, not feeling anything.
Then one of my best friends starts crying, I start to feel again and it's not pleasant...it starts as a faint ache where my heart is and I realize my heart is beating far faster than it should be, but I still don't feel like crying.
My best friend is told the news by his dad, and he comes in and sits on the couch in a daze. I have never seen this guy cry. Not in the 12 years I have known him...but today he does. The moment he starts crying is when I feel like I should at this point. Sad, so sad. I sit down next to my friend, and the tears start coming. They come and go for the next two days, and I'm not sure they are finished, even now.
This was the first time someone I know besides family has died...and now I don't ever want it to happen again. Even though I know he is in the arms of our Father.
He was such an amazing young man, always jolly, always ready to make someone laugh when he saw them sad or unhappy. He was such a 'big puppy' as my mom would call him. Him and his Irish red beard...
He was also one of the best bass guitarists I've ever known. At the age of 19, just one year older than I am, he had a musical talent unparalleled.
His dedication to Jesus was...amazing. This is how I know he is in the better place.
