Last night I found out that one of my childhood friends passed away.
It was completely unexpected. I’m trying to understand what it means that he’s gone. I’ve known him for around ten years.
We went to different universities, and we both have busy schedules, so it’s been awhile since I’ve seen him. I think the last time I saw him was Christmas of 2008 or summer of 2009. I can’t remember.
I wish I could remember the last things we said to each other. It was probably “Goodbye” or “God bless,” and it was definitely after a good time.
My friend loved to play Risk, he loved bowling, he loved the Dallas Cowboys, he loved the NewsBoys, he loved the United States of America, and he loved Jesus Christ.
I can’t remember when I first met my friend and his family, but it was probably connected to homeschooling. As a homeschooler in the Dallas/Fort Worth area, you get to know everyone. If there’s someone you don’t know, you know someone who knows them.
We became good friends. We went to each other’s birthday parties. We went to AWANAs together at McKinney Memorial Bible Church.
He lent me his NewsBoys CDs one time.
We loved to talk about the Dallas Cowboys. We got excited when the Cowboys won.
We talked about Jesus and the Bible.
He introduced me to corn dogs, and we would go to his house to play chess, play Risk, and eat corn dogs and brownies and chips and salsa and drink sodas.
He let me play his guitar when I went to his house.
He liked Star Wars. And he liked LEGOs too, way back when. And he liked the Lord of the Rings.
He had a wonderful Texan accent. He was a friendly, compassionate, humorous young man.
He taught me that “Cake is good, too much cake is not good.” When he said, “Cake is good,” he would rub his tummy. "Mmm, good." When he said, “too much cake is not good,” he would shake his head. No, too much cake is NOT good.
He was my friend.