Thursday, November 17, 2011

Imagining the joy

Today I cried. I cried over a man who passed away who I haven't seen since I was probably in middle school. A man who was 30 but who I remember as a kid. A man who fought a terrible disease, got a double lung transplant just weeks ago, threw a clot, and had to be taken off life support on Tuesday.

I cried over Jeremy. I cried for Jeremy. For his wife, for his sister, for his parents. I cried because I remember spending time with him and his family when we were little. We went to church together, we went camping together. I remember one trip in particular where we spent many hours playing games inside a small pop up tent when we could have been playing outside. But it didn't matter or maybe we didn't notice. Jeremy had to stay in the tent because he wasn't feeling well and I remember playing cards and making up silly nonsense game, laughing and teasing. I remember that was a very good day. I remember that moment. I remember that person.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about death, I suppose that happens when someone you are close to passes away. I've been thinking about how unfair it is, to those of us left behind. I've been thinking about what might happen when we get to heaven. But mostly I've been thinking about how much I miss that person.

I'm so glad for that moment in the tent. For the memory of that moment. For the amazing reality that one person, so far removed, can still impact my life in such a profound way. I am better for that moment. It's part of who I am. Just as everyone who's gone before me is.

I cannot imagine the grief of burying a son or a husband or a brother. But I can imagine the joy in having that person in your life for even just a tiny moment. And I'm going to hold on to that joy. Tightly.

1 comment:

Puggleville said...

I am so sorry. After losing our mom to cancer in Jan 09, a college friend of min also died from cancer in Dec 09, so that same year. He and his wife had had their first baby the previous year. It just tore everyone's hearts out that an incredible person like Matt died so young...even two years later, we still talk about him regularly and what he meant to all of us. In some ways, it was more devastating to me than my mom's funeral, because he was so young. Virtual hugs to you, and yes, good memories are so precious.