My friend Jonathan died on Tuesday, July 21st.
He was only 36.
His best friend asked everyone for a story that they could share for his mother and although it was hard for me to do, I sat down and wrote this...
About two years ago, maybe more, I went to an event pretty far from where I live. I don't remember the details, but they don't really matter. My friend Jonathan happened to be there and he was his usual sweet, huggy self that day. We had all talked about going to meet up for dinner and he said he wanted to go. So, later when it was over I went to look for him and found him asleep in his car.
I knocked on the window and he seemed to wake up. He got out of his car and closed the door. I was talking to him, but he still seemed kind of out of it. Suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backwards onto the ground. His head hit the pavement with a loud bang and he passed out. I yelled out "Oh my God, Jonathan fell and he's hurt! Help!" People panicked around me and finally someone that happened to be an actual medical person came to his rescue. They placed something under his head and someone told me he wasn't bleeding. When he came to, he didn't realize what had happened.
Turns out he'd had a seizure and had them all the time when he'd wake up, but no one had ever told me. Somewhere between anger and relief, I jokingly yelled at him and told him never to do that again and that he had scared me to death. Then I walked away and broke down in tears.
I thought he was dead and it was so scary that I thought I had lost my friend.
Now today, when I learned that he was truly gone, I couldn't find the tears. I suppose I was in shock.
Somewhere in my mind, I keep thinking... it's not true... and I'll be able to yell at him again for scaring me so badly.
I know it's true, but I so wish it wasn't.
There they are... those tears... I knew they'd come eventually.
Rest in peace my sweet friend.