I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I will forever miss and admire the way you lived your life with no cares in the world. Even though you had a condition that might have stopped some people from living fully, you did not let that get in the way. You showed me the true definition of strong.
On top of that, I miss the presence you had given me of being like my little brother, but above all, I miss your comical, valiant, and lively personality.
Looking back on the day you left, May 14th, it was all a blur to me. I remember scrolling through my phone while my mom was sitting across from me. The room was oddly soundless. I looked up to see her eyes showing a shocked look. Deep down inside of me, I prayed it was something good; however, I knew you had been fighting through this medical issue in the hospital for the past three months.
Although it took me a split second to comprehend what I had just been told, I knew one thing: time felt like it stopped. I just sat there wanting to cry or even yell, but I didn’t. My brain felt foggy. I could feel a burning sensation on my cheeks from the tears running down my face. Feeling this way made me ask myself questions: why now? Why so young?
You were only thirteen.
As I slowly started to have affirmation with the situation of heaven gaining a hefty, genuine, and animated angel, I recognized months later that because of you, I started to look at life from a whole new perspective and live more freely than in the past.
Because of you, I care less about what people think of me. I come as I am.
Because of you, I laugh more at things I would usually be sensitive to because I know you would do the same.
You showed me the true way of what living like the main character in life is.
Over time, the “I miss you’s” have never faded yet it seems as if they have. But I know they haven’t. There are still things that I do or see that remind me of you, whether it being at a dinner with both of our families and saying there are nine of us when there’s only eight, to watching somebody cook eggs on a Saturday morning knowing that you enjoyed doing that on the camping trips our families would go on together.
It is often said that the sky looks different when you have someone you love up there, and I can say from past losses that this is true.
One day, I was with my dad driving to get food, and I remember looking out the window and seeing a cloud in the sky shaped like you with a cape. The cloud had characteristics of an angel, with a sunset that helped enhance the outline more. Tapping my dad’s shoulder, grabbing his attention, I showed him. Not knowing how emotional both of us were about to get, I started laughing a little as my dad agreed with me, not knowing how to react. Part of me thought I was crazy. I also felt a sense of contentment because it was the first time I felt like I had a sign from someone I had lost.
I miss the memories, I miss the laughs, and I miss the enthusiasm you would bring on every trip.
And when I say these three words–I miss you–this is what I mean.