Jason, this evening I stood in a circle at the top of camp where you and I greeted campers as they arrived on the buses, listening to remembrances of your life as we spread your ashes in a place where your heart truly was. I have a lot of memories with you Jason, but I only got to know you the last 5 years of your life here on earth. Those 5 years will remain special. For every friendship you made was special. You knew how to love and how to care and make others feel loved. Listening to your family and close friends who knew you growing up, I couldn't help but wish I knew you earlier. But the Lord knows what He is doing when he puts people in each other's lives when He does and I will forever be grateful of that.
I have never been very great at making friends but you loved me as a brother and I miss that kind of friendship immensely. As I walk through this world and see activity on social media and witness encounters and conversations, it seems to me that generally speaking, people don't know how to love. This world is in a rush and they just want to get where they are going with no care about those around them. They waltz around like they are the center of the universe with no ears for others. That's what happens mostly. Then comes someone like you Jason. You knew how to love. You provided me with a new perspective on life. Those five years I knew you, I became a better person for it. I miss you and wish I knew more with your attitude about life. Then it hits me...what if I became that person? What kind of friend am I to others? The perspective you offered makes me wonder...wonder a lot. What am I doing with my life? How am I doing life? What will my legacy be like? What will I leave behind? How will I be remembered?
As I drove home this evening, I saw your memories through the beautiful sunset (while trying not to get blinded) on the horizon. Memories from camp, memories from La Perla, Gov Cup and hanging out...of road trips and conversations and watching cartoons. One memory stands out at camp: It was the summer where archery instructors had to be 21 or older and you and I had to teach archery pretty much all summer. One day at the end of the activity, you called over to me on the other side of the creek, "Wooly, I shot a shrew!" I was like, "What? What did you shoot?" as I slowly walked over to you across the creek. You took me to the hay bales and sure enough, you pulled out an arrow that had impaled a tiny mouse. "What do I do?" I wasn't sure either. No campers were around, so we decided to fling the little guy into the forest and call it a funeral. We wiped the blood from the arrow and walked back to camp.
Also, who can forget our bus buddies? You and I were the camp bus buddies! I'm not really sure how it started, but I remember us just walking over to the bus entrance to get away from the other staff who were normally talking stupid. So we would have our own pow wows in the morning while throwing rocks at the little reflectors across the way. Sometimes Salamander would join us, but we wouldn't allow anyone else. We had an alliance, you and I and it was a special one. We soon realized that the bus buddy program would die if we both left, so we created a written quiz. We had to make it difficult to weed out the dumb ones. Thus we put questions like, draw your favorite animal noise and what are some appropriate and inappropriate bus buddy conversation topics and what's your favorite camp song since we both were very opinionated when it came to that. Ah, the bus buddies. I look forward to the day I arrive in Heaven on a big yellow bus and I look out the window and see you and Jesus waving to me.
I remember the late night I had to pick my parents up from the airport and asked you to come with me. You jumped at the opportunity and we bonded over that trip. Ah the memories Jason. I remember the first time I met you...Family Work Camp 2006, right before we worked together that summer. I think you were teaching me the game of Flux or something. Shortly after this, you introduced me to your good friend Caleb. Ah, the good times indeed. I take heart in the fact that I will see you and talk to you soon and we will have good times...alas, better times again...
And lastly, of course we wanted to start our own camp together. Everyone else who I have mentioned this to looks at me weird or says some comment or just thinks I'm nuts. I have not yet met someone else to assist me in this endeavor, another partner-in-crime, but my journey continues. You can never be replaced, but I love the idea of doing this in your honor. Camp ministry was your heart as it is mine. That is a passion we shared. It is my hope and earnest prayer that we will see the bearing for fruit from this adventure.
You are gone from this planet, but never forgotten...
I will lament, the tears will periodically flow, but your strength and the memories you have left will remain...until I too am called Home.
