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The Heart of Tim
The tears fell and my vision of him blurred. It wasn’t fair, he was so young! Why did he have to leave me now? I still needed him, he was my best friend, he was my life line when I was in trouble. What will I do without him? I looked down, hoping to hide my tears from him, but it was no use. Angels could see anything. Tim always was an angel.
“Why do you cry?” He asked me.
It took me all of my strength to keep my voice from cracking as I replied, “I don’t want you to go. When you’re gone, I’ll be all alone.”
“You won’t be alone,” he reassured me. “There are people that love you and will always stand by your side, like you stood by mine.”
“But you won’t be at mine.”
He looked at me curiously. “Oh?” He said, “And where, exactly, will I be?” A look of mischief was twinkling in his eyes. It annoyed me; he was leaving and he was acting like it was some sort of practical joke! How could he act like this when he knows he will never see me, see any of us, again?
“You’ll be dead,” I said with a stern voice. As much as the words hurt, I felt I needed to say them. Once I said them it meant everything was real; that it wasn’t a dream. I never was one for denial.
He smiled. His smile was a beautiful one. Everyone smiled when Tim smiled.
Why was he smiling, though? He’s gone. Forever. Won’t he miss me? Won’t he miss his family?
“Silly girl,” he said with a light-hearted tone. “I am not dead! Why, whoever put such a thought into your mind?”
“But the hospital… I saw you…” my voice trailed off. I couldn’t finish my sentence. That day at the hospital was the worst day of my life. I never wanted to think about it again.
“Just because I am no longer of this world doesn’t mean I am dead. My friend, I have simply moved to a new home,” Tim told me, more happier than ever.
I couldn’t help myself, I started sobbing. He was dead. He was only trying to make that fact easier on myself and everyone else. No one could handle it when Tim died. Tim was perfect. Tim was talented and his future was so full of promises. Promises that now echo into his once bountiful future.
“Good friend, why do you cry?” He asked of me again. Could he not understand it? He’s gone forever and I will never hear his voice again, I will never hear him laugh again, I will never see his face again.
“I’ll miss you,” I said as calmly as I could.
“And I will miss you and everyone else, but that is no reason to cry.”
I stopped crying, confused by his words. I thought for a moment and then asked, “Why not? I shall never meet with you again after this, is that not a reason to be saddened?”
“Of course it is, but you have be misinformed.” He said with a grin, “We shall meet again. When one dies, their soul does not die with the body. The soul moves to a new world, to a new life. Your soul will move to the same new world as mine, and we shall meet again and live forever together.”
I stared. Is what he says true? Will I see him again?
“When?” I asked, wiping tears from my eyes. “When will I see you again?”
“That, I do not know, friend,” he said as he placed an arm around my shoulders. “But they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“I don’t care, I can’t wait long to see you! I can’t go through life without you!” I nearly shouted. I was angry with the way he was handling this. Couldn’t he just say ‘I’ll miss you too’, cry, leave and make this easier on me? But that’s Tim for you, the always optimistic Tim.
“Friend,” he said quietly, “we are only given what we can handle. If you couldn’t go through life without me I wouldn’t be leaving. It’s a lesson for you, and a journey for me.”
“Why must my best friend die for me to learn a lesson?” I snapped.
“Because there is no other way for you to learn it.”
At that moment I spotted a tall man with long, ebony hair, and beautiful silver wings standing next to Tim.
“It is time to go, Tim,” the man said. His voice was deep and sounded like soft thunder; more comforting than intimidating.
“Give me one last moment, please?” Tim pleaded with the man.
The man sighed and thought for a minute, “Quickly,” he finally said, “we are keeping people waiting.” Tim nodded.
“Here,” Tim said grabbing my hand, “take this.” He opened my hand and placed a small, deep red, heart shaped stone in the center of my palm. I stared for a few seconds, just examining it.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“A token of friendship. Something that will keep me by your side,” he said, “forever.” And with that, he gave me one last good bye hug, spread his pure white wings, and flew off.
“Good bye, Tim,” I whispered, my eyes never leaving the stone. The stone that was the heart and goodness of Tim.
In loving memory of Tim.