for jonathan, one year later.
july will forever be a bittersweet month for me. tomorrow will be exactly one year since we lost one of our own. the memory of jon will always bring us close together again. no matter how far we always seem to drift from each other, jon will be the one thing holding our bond strong, as if we had never left. as if we were still walking through the halls of our high school. as if we were still sitting in class together. getting suspended for writing controversial essays together. getting caught for "cheating" together. doing everything together. as if he had never left.
i loved what jon did for us today. the warmth of his family, the love, the tears, the smiles, the hugs. the couches reminded me of when erin and i would spontaneously visit him. it felt as if he were still sitting there. and amongst the reminiscing and laughter, as we tried to recall all the names from high school, i found myself pausing and scanning the faces in the room as if jon might be there too, smiling with us. his one eye smaller than the other when he laughs. eyebrows always cocked. and when i remembered that he was no longer here with us, i felt as if he was watching us with a smile on his face. proud of us all.
i also found myself watching his parents as they looked over us with loving smiles as if we were their own sons and daughters.
his mother. i will never forget her screams for her son in that chapel last year. it's still clear and haunting in my mind. she was the first to welcome me today at jon's gravesite. i gave her a tight hug and asked how she was doing. and i meant it with every bit of my heart. her eyes were puffy from crying already. i still saw her as an incredibly beautiful woman. how, through the tears, she still managed to smile, hold us, and show us that she genuinely cared about us. it's impossible to ignore the beauty in someone with that much love in their heart. and as i watched her stand over his grave, sobbing silently into her hankerchief, i don't know why the thought had never crossed my mind earlier. that a mother will never stop crying over her dead child.
i admire his father. when he stood over us watching us all laugh and joke around as if jon had never left us. when jon's sister told him he should give her friend relationship advice. i suddenly found myself wishing i had a father like him. he noticed me watching him, so i told him, "you seem like a cool dad." he pointed to the collage of jonathan's photos resting over the fireplace, and said, "he was my best friend." there was nothing sad about his tone. he was honest. strong. and proud. i will never forget those words.
then there is esther, jonathan's younger sister, who mingled with her brother's friends as if they were her own good friends. reminisced amongst them, hugged them, laughed with them, and offered them the same warm hospitality her parents did. she has blossomed into such a beautiful and strong young lady since i first met her. and seeing the tattoo of her brother's korean name on her wrist, i remembered how strained their relationship was in high school. i guess he taught us all how to love a little bit more.
i loved what jon did for us today. the warmth of his family, the love, the tears, the smiles, the hugs. the couches reminded me of when erin and i would spontaneously visit him. it felt as if he were still sitting there. and amongst the reminiscing and laughter, as we tried to recall all the names from high school, i found myself pausing and scanning the faces in the room as if jon might be there too, smiling with us. his one eye smaller than the other when he laughs. eyebrows always cocked. and when i remembered that he was no longer here with us, i felt as if he was watching us with a smile on his face. proud of us all.
i also found myself watching his parents as they looked over us with loving smiles as if we were their own sons and daughters.
his mother. i will never forget her screams for her son in that chapel last year. it's still clear and haunting in my mind. she was the first to welcome me today at jon's gravesite. i gave her a tight hug and asked how she was doing. and i meant it with every bit of my heart. her eyes were puffy from crying already. i still saw her as an incredibly beautiful woman. how, through the tears, she still managed to smile, hold us, and show us that she genuinely cared about us. it's impossible to ignore the beauty in someone with that much love in their heart. and as i watched her stand over his grave, sobbing silently into her hankerchief, i don't know why the thought had never crossed my mind earlier. that a mother will never stop crying over her dead child.
i admire his father. when he stood over us watching us all laugh and joke around as if jon had never left us. when jon's sister told him he should give her friend relationship advice. i suddenly found myself wishing i had a father like him. he noticed me watching him, so i told him, "you seem like a cool dad." he pointed to the collage of jonathan's photos resting over the fireplace, and said, "he was my best friend." there was nothing sad about his tone. he was honest. strong. and proud. i will never forget those words.
then there is esther, jonathan's younger sister, who mingled with her brother's friends as if they were her own good friends. reminisced amongst them, hugged them, laughed with them, and offered them the same warm hospitality her parents did. she has blossomed into such a beautiful and strong young lady since i first met her. and seeing the tattoo of her brother's korean name on her wrist, i remembered how strained their relationship was in high school. i guess he taught us all how to love a little bit more.