Rhys Anne

Forgive me, I am in heartbroken shock. I know even before I start this post that I will probably ramble.

I lost a friend on Monday. A friend that I talked to just a few weeks ago. I started our conversation with the usual, "Well, are you still in school?" It was just our code that I wanted to talk. He replied that he was and that he needed to make some big decisions. One of them that he was considering was law school. He talked about the company that he was working for, and how they offered him some great benefits. I gently reminded him that he was too smart not to at least get his bachelor's. He rolled his eyes at me and I pictured how that would go over when he was a lawyer and he reacted that way to the judge. I didn't voice that, but now I wish I would have. I'm sure he would have found the humor and reminded me that I am not a judge.

Jason and I were not always friends. While we grew up in the same small town, we were eight years apart in school, so we didn't really know each other. Then I started working at the pool. Since he lived just a few blocks away, we learned a little about each other. When he went to high-school, my mother and father pretty much fell in love with him. How could they not? He was a born leader, a hard-worker that expected out of others what he was willing to do himself, he had an upbeat polite attitude, could organize anything, had a quirky sense of humor, and could get along with anyone. He (like me) could have a conversation with a trash-can, so we were kindred spirits in that regard.

When he went to college, my mother made him a quilt. He talked about it fondly and asked about my parents every time we saw each other. That's just the way he was. Sometimes when I saw him, we were two small-town kids wondering how we had ended up in the same place, like when I interviewed him as he waited with his fellow KSU students for President Bush to arrive on campus. I also interviewed him as he counter-protested Fred Phelps at a local school. He had taken a small step to stand up against a man so many others just ignored.

A couple Christmas's ago I was at Walmart in a cruddy coat and jeans. He was dressed up and out on the town with friends. He still stopped to talk, he could have cared less my hair was being held up with a pencil. He and SB recognized each other from somewhere, you could see the recognition in their eyes. Today SB said he had realized that Jason was the president of the OA, an organization within boy scouts, that's how they had known each other.

Since I learned this awful news, I've been thinking about the complicated relationships of family and acceptance of yourself and others. While he was simply amazing, Jason had problems with feeling accepted. While he accepted everyone, he did not accept himself for the person he was. I think deep-down we can all empathize. I realize that I may act as if I don't care what others think and may shrug off, or eye-roll even my family members (or others that I truly love). I also realize that most members of my family (my mother especially) can build me up or crush me in about two sentences. Let's face it, within our hearts, we really do care about what others think and about our own self-thoughts. Let's accept ourselves and each other for who we are, even when we have a pencil in our hair.


-A heartbroken friend, who's only comfort is that God has love, acceptance and recognition in his eyes, and that Jason is getting a great education in heaven.