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Today would have been your 18th birthday.
The day you officially became a man.
The unofficial beginning to the rest of our lives.
But instead it marks 3 years, exactly, that you left me.
I still don’t know how I managed to get here, but I did. I know you would’ve wanted me to go on. But it still hurts like hell, especially on days like today. Days that are supposed to be filled with nothing but happiness.
I saw your family today, before I came to see you. They are getting by okay. It gets a little easier for them as the years pass, though. Brandon has thrown himself into his music, writing some new pieces that always remind me of you. So lively, strong, intense. You would like it, his music I mean. Out of everyone in the family, I was actually surprised that Jesus would channel what happened to you into something positive. I know would be proud. Jesus’ new non-profit company has launched a new anti-violence campaign to raise awareness for violence in the foster system. He has really embraced the role he put himself in and has been making big waves for change here in California. Mari got accepted into Julliard on a full ride dance scholarship. Her dancing became more passionate after you passed. It’s her release. Not surprisingly, Callie didn’t take it well and she still struggles from time to time with you no longer being in her life. But just like Mari, Callie spilled her anguish and pain into her photography. We weren’t surprised when UCLA offered a full ride with a study abroad program included. Your momma, Lena, has kept your “Big Brother” program alive with the help of me and other Anchor Beach students. We have a total of 30 students who volunteer with the foster kids from that group home you used to like to visit. But best of all, I think you would be happy to know that your mom finally stopped blaming herself the other day. I’ve been trying to get her to stop reopening the wound for so long now that I was actually surprised when she said she needed to let the wound heal and stop bleeding. I can’t help but feel guilty that I’m piling so much on you, since I don’t visit as often as I should. You probably know that already, but I had to tell you anyways.
The wound still feels fresh as I ache internally. I can’t go anywhere without seeing some kind of reminder of you. Like the park where we would spend so many evenings sitting on the swings side by side just holding hands, not speaking, just enjoying each other’s company. Or beach outside Anchor Beach, where we would lay under the stars and dream of what life would be like for us. Or the ice cream stand by the pier where you would get 2 scoops of rocky road in a cup with extra marshmallows. It’s hard to visit these places but I do because I know you would want me to, to keep your memory alive. And sometimes I swear I can hear your voice or hear your contagious laugh. But I have to constantly remind myself that you’re not here with me, anymore.
I always knew you were scrappy, and hard headed. That’s one of the things I came to love about you. My heart would always swell, in the beginning when my dad had a hard time accepting me us, and you would stand your ground furiously protecting me with no disregard for yourself. I loved you so much. But damnit, now I wish you would have just backed down and not stood your ground that day. Maybe you would still be here with us, with me.
The day is still as vivid as ever. I was patiently waiting for you to get back home from your lunch with the little boy Tyler from the group home, so we could go out with your family in celebration of your 16th birthday. Mari, Jesus, and I were passing the time sitting on the sofa watching TV with your mom and momma snuggled up on the loveseat. Callie and Brandon were in the backyard playing guitar. It was just about time for you to be calling for a ride when your mom got a text. I had never seen her move so fast as she scrambled up the stairs grabbing her badge and gun, telling Lena she was gonna pick you up as she bounded down the stairs. When Lena asked what was wrong I could see the worry enter Stef’s eyes as she simply mouthed “trouble”. Hours passed with no word, everyone in the house growing impatient. We were all stunned to find Stef come back without you, a disheveled look plastered on her face. All our worries manifest to reality when she exited the car, her t shirt covered deep dark blood. She hadn’t even made it to the steps of the house before she collapsed, sobs wrecking her body, crying your name. We didn’t know what had happened at that point, but we all joined her in tears regardless.
An accident, that’s what the news stations were calling it. The front page of the paper actually read: “Accidental fire arms discharge at local diner kills teen boy”. But we all knew it was no accident. That man did not accidently shoot you, it was no accident. He did not accidently show up forgetting he had a gun with him, it was no accident. He was arrested on scene. They eventually threw the book at him. He got the maximum sentence for capital murder.
The day of your funeral, I had to know exactly what happened to you. Stef had been tight lipped on the details, but my steady persistence broke her resolve. She led me to her bedroom and took out her laptop opening up some video. It was from inside the diner behind the cash register, showing a perfect angle of you and Tyler chatting and laughing away. Stef began explaining to me the situation Tyler had been in, his father beating and abusing him. He had been separated from his dad when Tyler finally confessed to a teacher at school. His father was picked up by police and Tyler placed into the group home. Unfortunately, you didn’t know he had posted bail that afternoon. Under your wing, Tyler was slowly starting to come out of his shell and was finally starting to look happy. You were his “Big Brother” and I knew from our conversations you would do all you could for him, just like if he were anybody else from your family. It was at this point in the conversation that I saw middle aged man approach your table from behind you. When Tyler visibly became uncomfortable you took notice, your instincts kicking in. I saw you quickly place yourself in between the father and son. There was no sound in the video, I am actually glad I couldn’t hear what was being said between you and Tyler’s dad. You never backed down, steadily holding your ground to this grown man, as you pulled out your phone sending a quick message. Your courage never wavered even when the man raised the gun to your chest. It was a standoff that unfortunately you were on the losing side of. When the shot when off and your body collapsed, the rest of diner sprang into action subduing the man and attempting to save your life. Your mom arrived shortly after to the scene grabbing your body and holding you tight. I didn’t need to see any more of the video as I closed Stef’s laptop. My stomach was sick, I felt like throwing up. So I mustered up as much strength and hugged Stef and we cried until it was time to go the funeral.
I have your beautiful face memorized, right down to the crinkle your nose gets when you smile wide. Your scar above your left eye, that you from falling off your skateboard. The deep brown doe eyes that would look at me and really see me for me. Seeing you lying still in the casket, was not the image of you I want to remember. You looked so much older, aged too fast. How I wish you would’ve just opened your eyes so we could all go home. But you didn’t. My heart broke when I touched you, feeling nothing but cold. My heart broke some more when they closed your casket and carried you out to the hearse. My heart finished breaking when they lowered you down into the ground.
How were you so brave? I would have turned and ran the other direction. But, no, you stood looking the face of adversity in the eye and said “give me your best shot”.
It’s been 1 year since I’ve been out here last and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t come see you as often as I should. I was just trying to go along without you. I was doing what you would’ve wanted me to do, continue living my life, even when all I wanted to do was curl up and die. I was broken for a very long time. I still am broken, but I think I finally found somebody to help put me back together. His name is Jacob, and while he is no you, he is good to me. He doesn’t push and pressure me. He holds me and lets me cry when I have bad days. He sits in silence with me when I slip into selective mutism. He knows he will never be my one true love, but he is ok with being my current love. I think you would have liked him.
God Jude, I miss you. I miss you so damn much. I wish I could pinch my skin and wake up from this horrible dream, but I know that’s not possible. I think you know that already, but I had to tell you anyways. Please remember I love you, always will. I think you know that already, but I had to tell you anyways.