10 in 2.

Oh, I’m a story-teller, and boy, do I love me some drama.  True story-tellers, the ones who really know how to “getcha in the gut”, are nerds masters when it comes to literary devices. Nothing gets my pulse racing like a perfectly placed pun. Foreshadowing, personification, onomatopoeia…oh God!..could life get any better?!? Yes, I’m using hyperbole. But I tell you,  when I say, “my life was utterly changed by one phone call two years ago,” I am not using hyperbole. This is a story that needs no literary devices. The circumstances alone hold enough climax, enough irony.

One phone call. Jeeze. Something so small cracked the world in half. My world. And many others. How many times, in my mind, have I run through the sequences of that day? A startling wake-up call. And 3 hours later, a death. How could it be so earth-shattering? How could it not be so earth-shattering? A dear friend. A brother. Someone  I shared a deep part of life with on a daily basis. Gone in flash. Never to see their face awake again. At least, in this life.

It’s hard to think about this day for too long and not get emotional. A year ago it was because of the felt loss of my friend, but today, it is at the faithfulness and love the people who were around me when it all came tumbling down. The milk of human kindness, truly. The care and concern. The thoughtfulness evoked by others is mostly what makes me emotional these days. Do I still miss my friend with all my heart? How could I not? But the sadness is different. It isn’t the deep darkness. It’s more of a mystified shock, or wonderment at the brevity, the finality, the gift of life. His life, my life. It’s been  two years, but my soul has aged 10. Redemption has eclipsed the sorrow, but nothing will ever be the same again. And the world looks utterly different. I’m not using hyperbole.