Brendon on His 30th




The moment I broke down at Brendon’s wake, of all moments, was when I saw our barber.  When I saw him, my first thought was, I need to tell Bren that Dan came. Then a freight train blindsided me.  I think it forced me to face the hard reality of everything.  I wouldn’t be able to share this news with my friend; this thing that only meant something in the context of our friendship.  Do you know that impulse to share with the only person who truly understands the significance of a thing?  It’s the secret knowledge of close friends.

On October 16, 2016, Brendon would have turned 30.  Just like me and most of my other friends, he would have taken this significant step further into adulthood.  Instead, Bren will remain in our memories as a 28 year-old.  To me, and I’m sure to some others as well, he’ll always be the friend of our youth.  When we get old and wrinkly we’ll remember the old days with Bren.  The days of hearty laughter, delicious and terrible food, movies and videogames and every manner of good times.   These memories are a treasure.

There’s much more life to live yet, and I’m grateful for each day.  There are families to raise, good friends to laugh with, and years of invaluable experiences ahead.  Life will pull us in directions we never imagined.  But it will come to an end at some point in time.  My great hope is that death isn’t the end of life.  My hope is that Jesus came back to life after they killed him two thousand years ago.  Because if that happened, and I believe in my heart that it did, that means there is hope for my friend as well.  There’s a hopeful expectation that I’ll see Brendon again.  And someone needs to tell him that Dan came to see him.



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