J a m e s.
It's amazing how much memories and feelings those five letters bring me. Every single time I hear that name, a rush of memories (both good and bad), flood me. Leaving me confused and feeling utterly helpless. Helpless that there was no way that I could help prevent his death. Helpless that maybe if I had prayed to God the night before, that his accident would not have happened. Helpless that maybe, just maybe, his death was my fault; that I had committed too many sins that God wanted to punish me. Maybe James' death was indirectly my fault.
Why do I always think of him? Why do I constantly check his Facebook page to see if anybody posted on his wall? Why does his death affect me so much? Why, why, why?
Maybe it's because he's the first person I have known that has died; the first person whose funeral I have attended. Maybe it's because I think of him as the older brother I have always wanted. Not only an older brother to me, but all the kids at our Youth Group. He always invited us out. He brought everybody together.
I remember the time when he invited everyone to go eat chicken wings at "Wings". If there's one thing you should know about James, it's that he loves his chicken wings. His reason for inviting us out was so that we could celebrate the ending of our midterms. That day, we ate the Bobby Wing (the spiciest, most hottest chicken wing that they sold). It was so spicy, I almost cried just from tasting a small sample of it. After that, James swore that he would never take us out again. But he always does.
I also remember the time when we went to the Sun Run. As soon as James saw me, he hugged me saying, "We missed you so much! Why don't you go to Church anymore?"
I didn't know how to reply to that. I couldn't reply to that. I didn't want him to know that my older brother didn't like Christianity. So I stayed silent. I wish I didn't, though because I do trust him. I wish he knew about my situation before I never saw him again because that was the last time I saw him.
I found out that he was missing and possibly dead, in the most terrible way. I found out on Facebook. That day my family and I just came back from Richmond. I was on Facebook and found that a lot of people from my Church were sharing the same news link. As I read the news article, the more and more I suspected it was James. As I went to his Facebook page, I was shaking as I read the Facebook wallposts from others. I was in disbelief. I called Rachel's house in tears asking if it was true. My worst nightmare had come true. That night, I cried and cried. Little did I know that as I was in my process of grieving, my homestay who I hate, was having fun with his friends. They were probably laughing at my grief.
But James, I just want to know if you are doing well? Are you with God right now? It seems surreal to me that right now, you know the secret of the afterlife that everyone else is so scared of knowing. Is dying a painful process? Is there really a God? What is it like there?
When I meet you up there in Heaven, will you still remember me? Will you be watching over me as I go through each obstacle in my life? Everyone misses you so much. Especially your mom. Church is definitely not the same without your energy and laughter. I just wish that your death wasn't the life changing moment in my life.
