President’s Day - 10 years ago
Two police cars drove up to a house to break the news to a family of their loved one in “grave condition.” Thirty minutes prior, the passenger side of a car wrapped around a pair of palm trees causing irreversible head trauma that took the life of a boy at the young age of 18.
What was seemingly a normal day off from school turned into a night spent in the ICU looking at what used to embody the life and spirit of a son // a brother // a friend. A freak accident. One car, sole person, a body mostly untouched, except for the stark cranium whiplash against the solid base of the tree.
And just like that — you were gone.
A friend of mine said “There’s something about those 10 year marks that really hold a different meaning, a different emotion than all the other years in between.” A decade. Not only is it a decade of change in your own life of learnings and experiences you’d want to share with your loved one, but also a decade of change, learnings, and growth that you would’ve wanted to see them experience. To see what kind of life they would’ve created for themselves. To see who they’d be today.
What I would do to see the man you would’ve become today. To see your passions that you’d be pursuing as your career, the places you’d travel to and explore, and maybe even the woman you’d be head over heels for and excited to call your life partner — who I could be excited to call my future sister-in-law.
All I know is you got it, you understood life. You understood living in the moment, following your passion no matter who ridiculed you for it, experiencing and feeling everything that life had to offer both good and bad, and seizing those moments when they arose. A magnetic aura and uplifting personality, you treated others the way you’d want to be treated — with kindness, compassion, and fairness in everything that you did. All the while keeping that big, goofy smile stretched across your face with the most optimistic view on life I’d ever seen.
It’s taken me 25 years to learn things you understood in 18 short years. And all I know is that’s how I’m striving to live my life — in your memory.