It's a bit surreal to think that it's already been a week. He was funny and bright, a daredevil and trickster. He had so many friends that the funeral home had to put many of them in the 'overflow' room. His sister gave the funniest, boldest and somewhat irreverent speech I've ever heard at a funeral--she didn't hold back at all and I loved it. My sister, his mother, was as strong as I've ever seen her be. His dad was as broken as I've ever seen him.
He left behind his grandparents, parents, sister and brother, two daughters and a son, and a gazillion other kids that loved him. Why? Because he totally adored them. He made them feel important and brave.
He made me laugh. He gave great hugs. He was awesome, and I miss him. I had planned to be home in a few weeks, for a much happier occasion. Instead, I had the opportunity to be a support to my sister, to help where I could, to laugh at his antics and to sob at his loss, and to receive a hug from his 2 year old son that reminded me so much of him that I ached inside because of it.
Find peace, sweet Jessi. Find peace.
