Goodbye, My Friend

Imagine walking into a room full of people you haven't seen in awhile. One guy's face breaks into a smile that literally goes ear-to-ear, making his eyes look like little half moons above his cheeks. Despite this, there's still a definite sparkle to them that immediately makes you feel like his joy comes from deep within, not just a fleeting, surface happiness.

He hugs you-- not the brief, I'm-going-to-lightly-touch-you kind, but the kind that involves a good, lingering squeeze.

This was my friend Brandon. He was "90 lbs when wet", as I heard one person say, until sometime in high school when he suddenly grew, as did his hair. I remember him saying that he got one haircut per year, when he had to; most of the time his light brown curls hung in that adorable shaggy style not too many can pull off. He was an amazing soccer player, jokester, and friend.

A week ago I learned that Brandon died in a car accident. Matt came to my work to tell me, and magically arrived right as I got on break. I crumpled, and we made our way outside so I could sob and try to process. Brandon was driving his 3rd carload of friends home, speeding, after a day of completely random hail in Lynnwood. There was no ice before, nor has been since, that night. He failed to make a turn, and the car hit a tree. He and another boy, Ehlo (a friend of my brother's) died on impact. The 3rd boy got away with broken bones, and a broken heart I'm sure. The 4th is my friend Trevor, who was just today moved into the "Stable" part of the hospital after being in an induced coma for more than a week. He is recovering from brain trauma, among other things.

Trevor is my teddy bear. Both he and Brandon were in middle school choir with me, and then in high school became even closer to me since they were my ex-boyfriend's best friends. Through all the parties, all the boyfriend drama, all the teenage shenanigans, Trevor was on my side: my comic relief, the volunteer to help distract me, my protector from a variety of things.

As I sat in Brandon's funeral, listening to his family speak about the horrors they're facing and will continue to face, all I could do was thank God for saving Trevor, and pray that all the strength Brandon & Ehlo had would be passed onto the boys who are recovering-- physically and emotionally.

I'd like to say that this experience has made me more thankful for life, but honestly, I'm still just sad. I can logically say that I am thankful, but right now I'm still mourning, and slightly worrying when I think about my loved ones and the fleeting time I may have with them. I'm not asking God why because I can hear the response: "Why not?" Why should just the people I love be safe from the world's evils, when other people lose family and friends? I am relying on God to comfort everyone involved, but I think I'm a little scared to fully allow the hurt, and comfort, to encompass me as well.

I love you, Brandon. R.I.P. Ehlo.