Back in August, I wrote a post about my husband getting the news that his best friend's doctors told him there was nothing more they could do to stop the cancer invading his body (http://www.sufficientgrace7.blogspot.com/2013/08/seeking-peace-at-3am.html).
Last Friday night, we received the phone call that his suffering had ended, and he had gone home to heaven. The day before, Doug had spent several hours sitting with him and his family, knowing the end was near. I am so thankful that my husband was able to do that, to be there that day and so many others over these last few months. There is no doubt in my mind that bringing Doug home from work was the right thing for our family, but if there was a doubt, the fact that he was available to spend so much time with his best friend during his last months would erase it for sure. That time is completely priceless, and I am so glad for my husband that he got to have the time he needed with him.
Today we attended a funeral service and laid to rest a very good man who has been Doug's best friend for many years; the loss of him from this earth at a far too young age may not make sense, but with God's peace we know that he is in a better place and that he will live forever in the hearts of his wife and daughters, and in the memories of all those whose lives he touched during his 38 years here.
Here is what Doug wrote to honor this fine man:
As I sat down to write this, the memories flooded my mind.
When you have a friendship that dates back to grade school, and you’re now in
your later 30’s, a lot of life has been lived during those years of friendship.
The thing is, when you’re in your 30’s, you aren’t supposed to be writing one
of these. You aren’t supposed to be saying goodbye to your best friend. He was
much too young; he had so much more living to do. So much more loving to do;
but I rest assured he will continue to love from heaven. He will be an angel on
the shoulders of his girls now, and will always be in their hearts.
Jarrod and I met in grade school; he lived down the street
from me and was known as the neighborhood bully. Being nothing of a bully
myself, I somehow gravitated toward his mischievousness, and we struck up a
friendship and spent those innocent childhood years playing endless rounds of
basketball, riding our bikes for miles around town, and just being boys, doing
what kids did back then, before cell phones, Facebook, and X-box. As we got
older, Jarrod introduced me to Nascar and Dale Earnhart; he was the first
person I picked up to cruise downtown Hillsboro with when I got my driver
license; in high school he was always trying to get me to skip class with him
and hang out; we had fun scaring his baby sister Kacey on Halloween and teasing
her mercilessly, as only a big brother and his buddy can do. We spent a lot of
time at his grandparents farm, riding 4-wheelers, tinkering in his grandpa’s
shop, going to auctions with them; and many times sitting down and talking with his grandma. Jarrod
loved his grandparents deeply, and I know he’s with them now in heaven.
Jarrod’s first truck was a pea green and lime green ’76 GMC;
mine was a dark green and white ’77 GMC. We had fun times driving around town
talking to each other on our CB radios. I still have my ’77, and Jarrod spent
countless hours with me over the years tearing it apart and rebuilding it into
an off road truck, and playing in the mud and sand with it.
We lost touch for a few years after high school, but
reconnected in our 20’s, and picked up right were we had left off. Jarrod was in
a difficult place, and I was able to help him get back on the straight and
narrow. He started dating Dawn, and I was honored to be their Best Man; Dawn
was Jarrod’s everything, the love of his life, the best thing that happened to
him. Several years later, he returned the favor, standing up as my Best Man
when I married my wife. I visited in the hospital when his daughter Morgan was
born; that day is forever etched in my mind, seeing Jarrod holding his precious
daughter, the pride and fear fighting a war in his eyes. Jarrod had always been
fearless, and seeing him that vulnerable showed me how much he wanted to be a
great father; and he fulfilled that for sure. A couple years later Kaydanz came
along, and it has filled me with pride as his friend to watch him be such a
caring, hands-on father.
Morgan and Kaydanz have been left with a legacy of
kindheartedness and giving; Jarrod was always willing to help out a friend in
need. No matter the task, from crawling under the house to root out odd smells,
to wrenching on the truck, he was there to do what whatever he could to help.
Jarrod – you were like a brother to me; we had our ups and
downs, but both of us knew a simple phone call was all that was needed to
reconnect, to ask for help, to catch up. It breaks my heart that my phone won’t
ring anymore with you on the other end, asking me what channel is the game on?
What time is the game on? Is there a race this Sunday? You may be gone from this earth,
but you will never be gone from the hearts and memories of everyone gathered
here today to say goodbye.
I hope you’re having a good time up there, getting to race
around the track with Dale Earnhart, taking an 8 second ride with Chris Ledoux,
catching a Blazer game with your grandparents, and raising havoc with Marc. We
miss you down here.
