Alex....

when i tried to sit down and write this last year, on the first anniversary, i couldn't.

the tears flowed so heavily that i couldn't even see the computer screen.

the words weren't ripe yet.... it was too soon.

in this season of quiet in my heart, where i have been trying to sort through some sadness in my life , the words have finally come.

i told your sister i would write about you. and now it's time.

when she called me that morning and told me, she was so calm.

i didn't believe her at first. but then i understood. i think we all knew it was coming.

all my childhood memories of us came flooding back....

the most prominent, when you really established a permanent place in my heart, was a time when we were sitting in my bedroom together.

i was crying because my big sister had locked her door and wouldn't let me come in and play with her and your sister.

i thought she was trying to steal my friends.

you put your arm around me, looked in my eyes, and said,

"don't worry, amy. no one will ever steal me away from you."

that's just how you were. even though you were younger than me, you wanted to be my protector.

we spent almost a decade together, trodding back and forth on the forest path that we had made to connect our farms.

one day, while playing in the hundreds of acres of woods, we stumbled upon our special place and we named it 'paradise'.

it was a little clearing in the woods, where water pooled beneath a small, trickling waterfall.

it was our secret spot. we gathered old flowers that people dumped at the back of the cemetery and placed them in the ground, and weaved them through tree branches.

we cleared the brush and thorns away. it was beautiful and magical to us. we spent almost every day there.

but when we were older, my family moved away. your family stayed.
our paradise got overgrown, and the thorns grew back.

we talked regularly, wrote letters, and visited. we grew up.

you grew into a tall, handsome, caring young man.

but we both struggled with inner turmoil and poor life choices in our later teen years.

during those years, i thought the best way to deal with my problems was to run from them.

i ran away from home, and ended up on your front porch once.

your family took me in, and provided comfort and reassurance. my parents knew i was safe there.

once again, you acted as my protector.

we spent long evenings on the couch, talking into the wee hours of the morning.

we talked about the realities of growing up, our disappointments, the bittersweetness of it all. we longed for our innocent, carefree days of childhood.

one morning, after a very late night, i awoke to hammering.... and found you outside, hammering a dent out of my car that had been there forever.

you wanted to surprise me before you left for work.

you tried to give me your hard-earned money during my stay, because you knew i had little.

you brought me gifts to cheer me up. you wanted to know i'd be okay.

eventually, i garnered the courage to return home. i was able to sort through my problems, heal, and take control of my life again.

but, dear alex, you weren't so lucky.

i'm not sure what the difference was.

i guess big boys don't cry.... they just turn reckless to hide the pain inside.

you fell into the oppression of that area where we grew up.

you turned to drugs.

and the next time i visited, i found you in a place that scared me deeply.

all i could do was plead with you and pray.

shortly after returning home from that last trip, i received news that you were in jail.

i wrote to you..... probably one of the longest letters ever.

and you wrote back, and sent me a picture of you and your family.

you said it was the only picture you had with you in jail, but you wanted me to have it.

you ALWAYS wanted to GIVE...... that was your true heart.

we wrote regularly during that year.

you wrote of your regrets... and your hopes and dreams for when you got out.

you were confident that you could reclaim your life, and i believed you.

those letters were our last regular correspondence. you got released early for good behavior.... and you started your own roofing business. you began carving out a life for yourself, and working to find inner peace. but you were never quite able to find it. but it wasn't drugs anymore.... it became speed. your dad warned you about your motorcycle, and your recklessness on it.

he even called my dad and voiced his fear for you.

and one evening, almost two years ago, your dad's fears were realized. a beautiful soul, taken too soon.

' i got the call today....

my childhood friend has gone away.

he took that ride that took his life...

friend, i hope you've found your paradise.'

Alex (1978-2006)

Rest in peace, Alex....