8

 When I think of eight years ago, I think that I can't believe how fast it's gone by.  That's such a trite thought.  Why can't I come up with something better to describe it?  But its true. I can't believe it's been eight.  I've been trying to remember you.  When I'm alone and it's quiet, I search the recesses of my mind to remember you.  The memories are fading.  I hate it.  I try to tell stories about you so not only do the people I'm talking about you with can know some things about you, but so I can remember
you.  A funny thing has happened occasionally over the last year.  Caleb has made a few faces and said a few things that remind me exactly of you.  It's been a small grace that I've been given to remember you.  The boys have been asking questions and talking about you recently.  I answer them as best as I can.  But in the quiet of my mind, I wish you were here to answer them.  I was thinking the other day that I want you to be here because they're both at an age now that you would have felt comfortable taking them to do things.  Ricky took them to the driving range last month.  While I love that he did that, the thought that came up was I wish Josh was here to take them somewhere to do something.  I wish you were here to show them how to wash the cars, or change the brakes, or any other numbers of things that you could've taught them.  So I find myself eight years later asking myself questions that I'll not get any answers to on this side of eternity.  It hurts. Still.  I'm listening to this song that Chris Stapleton wrote.  It's called Mountains of My Mind. I'm going to link it to this blog post.  It's like he's in my brain with this song.  One of the lyrics that speaks to me from it is this.  "So I think I'll find a long white line, curse the world and leave it all behind. I've been trying all this time, but I still can't climb the mountains of my mind".  When I think of you, there's a mixture of laughter and tears.  So many good, funny memories.  So many regrets and sad ones as well. Editor's Note: For the first time since I've started writing these blog posts, I asked Christa to read it and tell me if it was too sad. She said it wasn't, but you keep talking about how much guilt you still feel. When she first told me that, I got a little defensive. Having thought about it overnight and realized that she was right. I shouldn't feel the guilt as much as I do. I know that you prayed that I would find a good wife. God went above both of our expectations when He gave me her. Her patience and understanding with me have been such a help in walking the road of grief. 

I think the most effective lessons I've learned in my life are informed by my relationship with you Josh.  I'm more understanding, less quick to get to the harsh judgment and the expectation of an impossible standard to meet.  That's what I did to you.  I expected you to be someone that you were not.  Rather than seeing you the way that you were created, I saw you through eyes of judgment.  I remember being awoken on numerous occasions in the middle of the night to pray for you.  Not just for you, but for repentance for me, for the way that I treated you.  

I was thinking earlier today of the times that we would go have lunch together.  The last one I remember was when we went to Honey Bear's.  We both had the ribs and fries.  Honey Bear's is no longer there.  I'd go if it was.  I don't remember what we even talked about.  I'm sure it was nothing serious. I wish I had known that it was the last time we'd eat lunch just me and you.  I'd pay so much money for one more stupid lunch together. I'd tell you all the things I've written about the last eight years. I'd love to just sit and talk and catch you up on this life we've lived since you've been gone.  I can't so I'll just keep doing what I've been doing.  Searching for memories.  I like going back and seeing you pop up in the timeline. I often think that the timing of your passing has been a welcome distraction from the election.  It's a good reminder to me about the things that are really important. I think of legacy and what it means to leave this world better than I found it. People put so much importance on these elections.  And while they are important (they were important to you) I find myself just thinking about eternity and what its going to look like when we're all together again, the way we were meant to be. Glorified.  Redeemed. Transformed.  I can't wait.  I think of you in Heaven.  What do you do there?  Who do you talk to?  What are those conversations like?  Do you say anything inappropriate? I'm  guessing you do because it's you and that's kind of what you do.  

I'll say it again. I've said it a thousand times.  I miss you.  Everyday.  Every time someone brings up a memory about you, I try to lock it away, so that I have it for myself because mine are fading away.  I love you.