Over the last two weeks, I have run into your closest friends. They did not recognize me at first sight. I don’t blame them. I have changed in the last 9 years. The last time they saw me was when we were lowering you into the ground in November of 2010.

One looked old.

I smiled at them. One, I introduced to my son.

And the smiles they gave back. I reminded them of a very difficult time.

And it reminded me of a very challenging time.

That time introduced me to myself, cemented and attached me to reggae forever and changed my belief system when it came to certain relationships. Death invaded my life in a way it had never been able to do before. Yours was the first funeral I had ever attended. Yours was the first memorial writing I ever had to do. I don’t even remember how I thought of what to write. I still have your funeral program at my house. I have your last recorded voicemail on a hard drive. I have not listened or viewed these bits in over 6 years.

I saw your friends and I missed you. Badly.

This coming weekend, we have a reggae concert in town. I thought I would go but, all of a sudden, it feels like it will be an emotional rollercoaster. I am certain that I have healed from your unexpected departure. I talk about you without the threat of tears crowding my vision. I listen to Morgan Heritage without breaking down. I do recall, fondly, our first date. I do remember the best bits of you and of us.

But I miss you and what would have been.

One thing the years have taught me is that you will never be gone completely from my mind and memories but my life has gone on. What has and will never change is all I learned from you when you were here and after you were gone.

Love. Live your life.


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