March 23, 2016:
God, I was so proud of you. For fighting, for believing, for staying with us. Any news was good news for me, because it meant you were still around. I had just extended my short trip home because I wanted to spend my spring break with my friends. That night, I was with Ben Benoit. I gave him the update that I loved to give—you were doing well, and I was going to visit you that Saturday. Once I left Ben's, I drove towards my house. But something in me knew that wasn't my final destination. I drove up to the crash site, and said a prayer for peace and healing. I texted Alex, and told her I was coming over because I missed her. I ran into her house as usual, wishing you were there, and hugged Karen. I was so excited to see her, but the look on her face was not a happy one. It didn't even click. Where was Alex? I noticed her out of the corner of my eye on the porch. Nothing unusual. Karen told me. No. No, no, no, no. I just remember sinking to the ground, and everything going black. Alex was on the phone with your mom. I stood there, thankful that I had extended my trip, still trying to grasp the news. It was you all along. There's no doubt in my mind that you extended my trip home, drove me out to Fayette to say goodbye, and then sent me to Alex's so we could be together.
Before you, I woke up, went to school, did my homework and went to bed. The first time we hungout, you told me to "live a little". I found myself staying out late, learning more about the world, and being a little more fearless with my decisions. I started doing things that didn’t align with my GPA or who I was "supposed to be". You and Alex opened me up into a new person, a real person.
The rest of our lives couldn't come faster. We drove backroads late at night just to kill time. We talked about the what ifs; about the lives we'd have when we finally got out of Central Maine. There was that night we sat in Alex's car on Summerhaven and you put your Beats on my head and told me to look up at the stars through the moon roof. It felt like the world was in my hands. I could do anything, as long as the two of you were by my side. I think of that moment whenever I see the stars. I see you in them now, laughing at my childlike attitude and our ability to enjoy each other's company while doing absolutely nothing.
You were the first person to support my wild and crazy dreams. While everyone else rolled their eyes at the thought of art school, you frequently checked in, anxious to see what I was doing down in Georgia. I knew that whenever I needed a little encouragement, someone to tell me that I hadn't completely lost my mind, you were there. I know it's selfish, but I really could have used you this year. I stood on graduation day trying to imagine how excited you'd be for me, and I realized that you still are that excited, you're just not here to share it.
I thought I understood death. I had been to funerals before, I had received the phone calls of loved ones lost. Okay, I thought, this is just part of life. But I've come to realize that the death of a 90-year-old who has fulfilled their goals and dreams is very different than the death of someone with so much more life left in them. It's been four months since we lost you, and I still don't understand death. I still find myself clicking your name to send a Snapchat, and every time I visit Alex, I fully expect you to be sitting in your chair, like always. I don't understand why you can't respond to texts, I don't understand why you aren't around, none of it makes much sense. I thought I would understand. I thought I'd be able to accept the absence of your presence. I think it's hard because without you, there's a little piece of me missing too.
I don't understand death, especially not yours. I want to eat McDonald's French fries with you, listen to whatever music you're listening to this week, and my god, I'd give anything to hear your laugh again. I think of you in silence, I think of you in noise. I think of you in song lyrics, I think of you in hooded sweatshirts and flannel shirts. I may not understand your death now, and maybe I never will, but I know you're not gone, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. You live with me in the little moments and the big accomplishments. On the long car rides, you're who I talk to. There won't be a day that goes by that I'm not living for you. You are my adventurous spirit; you are my kind-hearted soul. I will spend forever and a day living in your honor. Thank you for making me a real person.