In my life...

My friend died - 16 years ago today. He was 16 years old. He's been gone now for as long as he was on this earth, and I was lucky enough to know him for most of the 16 years ago. He was my brother, three years older than me - uber protective. The closest thing I've ever known to a brother.

The things I remember about him are: he was funny- we laughed all the time, he always let me ride with him on church trips, he loved his mom and dad so much, and when he was around his 6 year old sister - well, she was the apple of his eye. He was serious, and genuine, he cared a lot about things and loved a lot. Northwestern was his dream school - he'd wanted to paint the NW in purple paint on the walls of his bedroom at the cabin he and his dad were working on renovating the day that his car crashed. I spent a lot of time at that cabin with his family, and the family of friends that we created afterwards. His absence was always there. He wanted to be a doctor, he would have been a great one. He loved to be outside, and on stage. He was an actor, singer, athlete, band geek, choir nerd, and churchgoer. He kept me involved in youth group, and he was a little afraid of my dad. He was the only teenager that my mom would let me ride with. He was the only kid I knew who had his own telephone line at home. Fall days always make me think of him because of the day that 5 of us went horse back riding at my folks place.

On the day he died, I got a call from my friend Ashley. I was watching Full House and had just gotten home from riding lessons. I told my mom, she didn't believe it, so we started calling folks from the church. I spent most of that week at Rie Rie's house, or she at mine. We all talked on the phone a lot, when we weren't together. It rained at the funeral, it rained most of that week. Rie and her mom came over the next day, we made cheese quesadillas and cleaned out my mom's car. One night I woke up in the middle of the night, put on my jeans and stood outside in the rain crying. When my mom and I returned home from the funeral, Tears in Heaven played on the radio. "The Green Room" - the club that we'd all started to benefit our local theatre still met - although we just cried together. The friends that I had then will always be so close to my heart. Some of us have lost touch, some of us have lost faith - but in my heart, we're all still those bereft teenagers, and all that I have is love for those kids.

In the years to come we would meet at his grave. Some folks brought guitars - we decorated the site with little mementos of our lives, things he would have liked, or should have been a part of. I went there byself quite a bit, just laid down and chatted with him. Had he lived, perhaps we would have grown apart, perhaps he wouldn't always have been my older brother, perhaps I wouldn't have called him in college, when I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life, or when a romance went awry. But I hope I would have.

Jeremy was a good kid. He would have been a good man. I miss him, and my love goes out to everyone who knew him, everyone who missed the opportunity to know him - and all those bereft teenagers out there.