Steve

Dear Friend,
The sun showed it’s face today over a fresh blanket of white snow. The sunlight was glistening in the frost on the tree branches and I thought of you. I miss your smile. It’s been almost two and a half years since your funeral and I still haven’t dealt with your death. Instead of facing my feelings about you dying, I have withdrawn myself from people and activities that remind me of you. I can’t carry you around with me like this anymore. I can’t cry every time I need to do some electrical work. This is me dealing with you. This is Maverick throwing Goose’s dog tags off the back of the ship. I’m sorry I made your death about me and how I feel.
When I walked away from your funeral I realized what wasn’t important in my life more so than what is. I’d invested so much time, money and energy into things, crap, that doesn’t matter. I was letting my stuff own me and take priority . There was a lot of conversation about what was going to happen with all your stuff. You did have some pretty bad-ass toys, don’t get me wrong. A lot of great relationships are formed through working on things, hanging out in garages, and leaning over the hood of a truck. What Jesus gently spoke to me through all this was ” In the End all your toys won’t matter”. I needed to hear that and want to change that about me.
I am realizing the impact that you left on my life and what a good friend you were to me. The kind of friend you could trust with your life and your wife. I liked our friendship. We were comfortable with each other. There could be those silent times and it didn’t feel weird. I could just be myself. No B.S. and no apologies. We could talk about lifts and tires, engines and paint without getting sick of it. Rarely did we talk about church and never about Jesus. I’m sorry I didn’t ask the uncomfortable questions. In many ways, though, you lived out Christianity through your life. I read James 1:19 “be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.” This was you my friend. You lived this verse. You were the friend I could always call for help. You didn’t need to know for what or why… you would just come over. You lent us your Tahoe when Daysha’s car broke down two days before our wedding. “ I’ll take care of it and it will be fixed and in the garage when you get home from your honeymoon.” You left our wedding reception , just when it was getting good, to take us home. You stayed back at the campground with me, in West Virginia, when the others went into town for the night because good friends stick together. I don’t know how many other countless projects you helped me with, but Thank you.
I have this rolodex of your memories that is triggered randomly. Some things always make me think of you: suburbans, wiffleball games, Silver Lake, Burger King chicken sandwiches, frisbee with Fletcher, a skid of shingles, Captain Morgan, BLACK= GOLD, WHITE=CHROME, Thursday nights in the summer, and DICK CEPECK to name a few.
You had a childlike innocence and it was a joy to be your friend. I never met anyone who didn’t like you and I am a better person for knowing you. I always valued your honest opinion and the fact that you weren’t afraid to give it to me. I’m sorry I got you sick on your 21st birthday. I love you friend and will visit you in my next memory.
~Rotman