When
I heard that you had passed away I didn’t want to believe it. I thought it was
a terrible, distasteful joke, one I had planned on telling you so we could
laugh. Because we always laughed. There was always something to laugh about,
something to joke about.
Folks
says don’t take today for granted because tomorrow is not promised. I guess I
forgot that. I would never have divined that you wouldn’t be here anymore. Not
you. Why you? How?
I
still don’t understand. I do my best to fill my mind with other things and not
think that you are no longer around. We didn’t talk everyday so missing you is
strange. I don’t quite miss you because I don’t consider that you are gone. We
could go weeks without texting but I never doubted that you were there. Always
there.
But
now you are not.
Is
there anything I wish I had said to you?
Honestly,
no.
I
wasn’t planning on losing you. I wasn’t thinking that someday soon…
I
don’t have feelings of regret. I’m still perplexed that you are no longer here.
I try not to think about you so that I don’t cry. So that I don’t consider how
fragile our lives are, how unfair this is.
When
I heard the news I prayed for you. I prayed the way I should have been praying
all along. I prayed for your family. I prayed for myself, a silent voice asking
me if I’d prayed this fervently consistently, would you still be around? Would
it have made a difference?
I
prayed for the salvation of your soul, because once again, I am reminded that
that’s all that matters. The salvation of our souls.
I
have faith that God heard my prayer for your soul.
I
have faith that He forgives me for being a terrible Christian, one who should
have been praying fervently for the protection of her friend. I didn’t know
about what was going on with you, but I should have been praying regardless.
How can I be so choked with the cares of life that I forget to envelop my
friends in prayer, their going out and their coming in. Their sleeping and
waking moment?
Why
is it that your death has sent me running to the feet of Jesus, when I should
have been there in the first place?
I
am going to miss your laugh. Your voice.
That beautiful black hair that always fell in waves. There won’t be any more
game nights with pizza. I was hoping there’d be another one.
There
won’t be any more jokes.
You
will no longer joke about me drinking “Jesus juice.”
When
I go on my next vacation, you will no longer ask me to bring you a keychain.
I’m
glad to have known you. Your spirit was so beautiful. So sweet. So caring. You
opened your home to me more than once, to share, to eat, to laugh, to have a
good time.
I
still don’t understand why it had to be you.
Your voice is what I will remember the most.
And your laugh.
I'm glad to have known the wonderful woman in you.
Rest in peace, my friend.
