My Friend

Dear Jon, I miss you. I don’t know if you are in heaven jumping on a rope or eating happily. But I’m sure you’re happy. You must be in heaven, have you reached? How was your trip there? Did you grow wings? Are you an angel now? Can you be my angel? Why did you leave so suddenly? There were no portending signs. Why?

I can’t stop thinking.

My usual light flashed and the ‘loggers’ whatsapp chat popped up.

I saw your name, but it was not you.

He would have turned 19 this year.

He was a real fighter.

He fought the battles of life such as eczema, school, and loneliness with just one tool, faith.

When he laughed, he was genuine.

When he cried, his tears were pure.

He was my friend.

But I don’t think I deserve to be called, his friend.

I never did my part.

I just had one word-sorry as I looked upon his peaceful face.

And it still plays repeatedly like a faulty player.

“Thank you for being his friends, all he ever wanted was friends”, Mary said.

That’s not her name. But she reminded me of Mary.

Her love was so overwhelming that it showed explicitly.

Her faith was inspiring.

And each time I heard the echo of her cries; my heart sank a little lower and felt a little heavier.

I still hear them, resounding in not just my ears but also my heart.

Dear Jon,

You’re happy there aren’t you? (-:

I want to experience the eternal and perfect love you’re experiencing.

Its nothing like love on earth is it?

How does Jesus look? How about God?

Is heaven crowded? Are you friends with everyone?

Don’t forget me Jon, I’ll be coming to join you whenever God calls me.

And when I reach heaven, please be my friend.

I might look fat, wrinkled or old.

But don’t forget me.

Don’t forget us.

You will always be part of us.

Always.

Brenna

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