We will never know if it was premeditated, or if it was just a random unlucky encounter. We will never know why he chose you, or if it was a hit. We watched the doctors pumping your chest so hard it broke your ribs, we watched you beg for water but were ordered to deny you your last request, we were helpless. We heard the monitor’s long beep and wept in the hallway until our supply of tears ran dry, we prayed while holding your cold limbs from lack of circulation before your surgery, and frantically begged doctors to do more. We took turns dressing in the gown, gloves, hairnet, face mask and booties in between quiet tearful Facebook chats with your close friends telling them your chance of survival was improved after your surgery and then while sitting silently in disbelief we simply said you were gone. I was stunned that you left in such a hurry, and ten months later I am still catching myself in disbelief. You were with us every day, we prepared meals together, shared unforgettable memories, and always laughed at each other.
Our faith wavered for a while after you died, we couldn’t believe that someone so good hearted, someone so selfless and loyal, someone so loving and tender could be taken in such a cruel, and heartless way. That man had no right to stab you, you were supposed to be by our side for the next 50 years. You were supposed to flirt with my girlfriends and try to marry one of them to make your dreams come true.
Your daughter turned six years old on the day you died, and we had just met the sweet child so appropriately named, Angel. Though you hadn’t spent much time in her life she still loved you with every bit of her heart and you promised to buy her a cake for her birthday and she would come over to the house to play with you and our kids.
The night you died we heard you in your bedroom upstairs, you were making more noise than usual but we were comforted that you were home for the night. When the call came in after 3 in the morning I was shocked to hear the news because I thought you were sleeping upstairs. Together with three people you have known for 20 years, who have become your brothers and sister, threw on the nearest clothes, and with uncontrollably shaky hands I gathered my purse and car keys and kissed our babies as they slept peacefully, with no idea the tragedy had just begun. I drove fast, I drove dangerously fast, but at 4 in the morning the road was mine and undoubtedly angels shielded us from harm. We arrived at the hospital just minutes after you arrived and we thought for sure they were kidding that you had been stabbed in the neck, but low and behold your blood pressure was critically low and the doctors weren’t acting fast enough. How I wish I was a certified doctor so I could have saved you myself. How I wish this was a dream or a joke or anything aside from the dark reality we faced. We cherished you, the first person to name as the godfather of our children, the first person we called for when we needed help.
If I could go back to the day before you died I would have lectured you about your new motorcycle. I would’ve told you to stay in for the night. I would have protected you or shielded you. If anything I would just go back to hold you and tell you how much you mean to me and my family. I would thank you, from the bottom of my heart, I would thank you for being such a huge piece of my life and for loving my husband and kids. You were there with us in the hospital the night before my cesarean until the day I was discharged 4 days later. You were one of the first people to hold our daughter and to see the joy of your best friend holding his first born. Life had come full circle for your friendship with my husband, 6 years ago you asked my husband to be your daughter’s godfather, and then we asked you to be our backup. You were there for our youngest daughter’s first words, first steps, first dance moves and first fits. You played with the girls because you loved them and oh my goodness did they love you too.
On the night you died the kids fell asleep later than usual and at the same time you went into cardiac arrest the baby cried for the exact 45 minutes they attempted to resuscitate you, our nanny said there was nothing she could do to comfort the baby, but at the moment you were pronounced dead she fell back asleep. I hope you are our angel, you were our angel before you went to Heaven, I know in some way or another you are here with us, even if it is just the memories locked away in our hearts. Trying to explain your death to our eldest daughter was another heartbreak, the first time she heard it she just didn’t understand and then all of a sudden the next day the floodgates opened and when she let go so did we, we just cried and cried and cried, and we didn’t hold anything back. She told us that you were her best friend and in all honesty you very likely were, you spent more time with the girls than any of her cousins or playmates, and on some days you stayed with the kids while we were out for business meetings. You were her best friend. You were my husband’s closest friend, so close he considered you to be one of his brothers. You were my best friend too.
Everyone that was blessed to know you knew that you were one of a kind. You gave strangers the shirt off your back, I’ll never forget the story I heard about you. When you were working for the municipality you were given rights to waive fees of low-income patients after their hospitalization, you would even visit while they were still admitted. Your allowance was pennies, and with no food in your stomach for the whole day would offer your only remaining money to patients from your municipality just so they could eat, you would give them the coins left in your pockets for your commute home, and you would walk or hitchhike home, you would practically collapse after getting home, but you never complained, you were never obligated to pay for meals of those patients, you had a heart of gold. Maybe God called you to Heaven because your heart was too good and you needed a vacation because you were always helping the community.
Selfishly we can admit that we were definitely not prepared for your death, but we knew how tired you were and we knew you deserved so much more than that. We couldn’t accept that you died even though we watched them giving you CPR for over 40 minutes, and even though we saw them stop trying we still couldn’t believe the words delivered by the doctor. Our friend, a pastor, cried with us in the hallway of the ICU, and could barely get through his prayer. Through extreme exhaustion, we all gathered around your bedside and said goodbye for the first time. When we delivered the message to our parents and family and friends there was silence and then sobbing like nothing you’d expect to hear after someone passed away like a grandfather or great uncle that had been fighting cancer for a few years and finally let go, no one had any time to prepare to lose you, if given the time we still would not handle it any differently.
We prayed for miracles, for you to live again, to wake up from your deathbed and come back to us. Your wake was in 3 cities, you were loved by so many, the first four days at the funeral home we stayed with you until dawn and returned again in the afternoon, we stood by you and tried to soak in our last few visions of your body. The second wake was at our house and one hundred people came to your service, politicians, businessmen and farmers all gathered to pay their respect, people spoke so sweetly of you and few could escape their speech tearlessly. Your final wake was at your family estate and carrying your casket to the viewing room was almost impossible, but they did it. A week after we brought you to your estate it was time to place you in your tomb. I hated that the most, we all stood close to hear the pastor lay your body to rest, but when they started to seal the tomb we couldn’t bear it anymore, we will never see your body again, laugh together or call each other for help, closing the tomb meant you were officially gone. During the first couple of weeks sometimes we would forget you were gone, thinking life was still normal, feeling your presence at the house we’d catch ourselves calling your name. How we wished you would holler back and tell us you’ll be right there, or share stories and adventures with us, how we miss cooking with you and watching you do your “sexy dance” when you were drinking and exhausted from a hard day of work, and we will forever miss that smile that could light up the sky. You are missed, you will be missed until we can join you up there, you are one in a billion.
You are irreplaceable. We love you.
