The Value of a Life
Can it be measured, counted?
It can, although poorly.
Brad lit up a room.
The sun shone in him, through him. We feel lost now without it.
He had a wonderful sense of humor and was incredibly easygoing.
Brad's life was invaluable to us, measured in tight hugs, and a "We'll see you later".
There were too few Christmases he made merrier, but they were made so much better by him.
Last Friday, I wrote:
"Brad's sense of childlike wonder lit up our lives. The sun truly shone in him. His passing has left the world darker and our hearts emptier. He took that light with him, but he also left pieces of it in each of us."
Lighting candles, holding hands, these things won't bring him back.
Nor will seeking vengeance, retribution.
Justice.
There was no justice in his death.
I can't even do him justice in words.
Maybe I'm the wrong person to ask. I took Brad for granted.
I didn't see him for the good person he was until much later, wasting precious time.
I spent too much time doubting, questioning, judging.
If he noticed, he didn't seem to mind.
His big heart welcomed me in just as my cold and dark one shut him out.
Brad may never know how much he is missed, how deeply his loss his felt, but we will.
We will remember.
We will hold vigil.
We remain.
The burden of life is death; of love, loss.
We carry this burden because we know it is worth it.
Those we love
don't go away.
They walk beside us
every day
Unseen, unheard,
but always near;
still loved, still missed,
and always dear.
We love you, Brad. You are deeply missed.
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