I have a friend named Jason.
He and i have been like brother and sister since kindergarten. He's one third of the "Berenda Brothers" trio. the three boys who loved me like my 3 real brothers.
I cherish the memories i have with this boy.
After high school he went to Arkansas to play college ball, and i've only seen him a handful of times since. When i do see him, though, it feels completely natural.
On a beautiful morning in mid April, i got a phone call while i was reading.
Jason's father had died of a heart attack that morning.
my stomach dropped. I immediately called my own father because the two of them were close friends. He just kept repeating, "oh no. no." and i couldn't hold back my tears as i explained what had happened. very soon i was in contact with Jason and i drove to his house to see him the day after he flew home.
it was heartbreaking to see Jason so empty. He has always been so full of color and life, spreading joy and laughter, he has the biggest heart i've known. This boy loves fiercely and trusts uninhibited.
But that was all gone.
he was a shell.
I hated it.
we talked for hours on his back porch.
at first about nothing. catching up. who are you dating, how is life, what's your latest injury, favorite class, roommates are rough, yadda yadda. i was not about to bring it up. eventually he did, slowly, and i didn't push it.
and then it all came gushing through the conversation and i just let him talk and talk and talk and say everything he needed to say and it was terrible to sit there and see his face so broken and shadowed and not burst into tears. i was trying not to cry because i didn't want him to feel like he had to comfort me.
Eventually the conversation turned to afterlife, and i didn't push any of my beliefs on him, i just let him talk, and i let him tell me what he believed.
He told me that his dad would be buried right next to Landon, my brother's best friend. We talked about the similarities between the two men.
Good, loving, men. with integrity and drive and full lives.
It doesn't make sense that people like that would both die so early in life, and so suddenly, but it happened. We talked about Jason's beliefs and mine, but i let him lead.
I am so glad we had that conversation.
it brought a kind of peace into the air, and we were able to talk about his father's life and legacy in a memorable, honorary, loving way instead of a painful tragic way.
No one should have to feel the pressure that Jason seemed to be feeling.
He is the only son, and that comes with a lot of expectations in his family. It's not fair that he is having to make decisions so early. he's 21 years old, not 30.
finally, i had to go home, and when i did i flopped right onto my mom's bed and cried for a good hour or more. Seeing Jason so sad had my heart all twisted up tight.
no one should have to go what he went through.
I was devastated by the death of this man.
Mr. Ibrahim was an incredible father, and an excellent friend. He was sincerely living his life in the best way he knew how. He loved his wife. He loved his kids. He loved his farm.
He was a good man.
His funeral service was touching.
a fitting memorial to a person so cherished by his family and community.
All of the 4 children spoke about their father, and Katie and Sabrina sang a song for their dad.
My own father conducted the funeral, and i felt so torn.
So lucky to have my father, so sad that Jason didn't have his.
after the service, there were lots of tears and warm embraces.
I saw Stephen and Brandon both tightly hugging their fathers at the same time i ran to hug mine, and my heartstrings about snapped.
There was a luncheon at Jason's house afterward.
Many of our friends from school had come home just for this.
a testament A) to how loved Mr.Ibrahim was by all those who knew him, not just those his age and B) to how close knit this community is
I felt strange seeing all these people again, though.
Jason captured my sentiments perfectly when he remarked,
"You know, we saw each other every day for 13 years. we knew each other's lives backward and forward. We would have done anything for each other. We were one big unit. Now we see each other maybe every 8 months or so at Christmas or summer and act like nothing has changed. We're leading completely different lives. we're not the same. When i see people from high school i feel good, But i also feel weird, because i'm not that guy anymore, and they're not that guy anymore either. I still love them, I still love those memories, but it feels almost fake, you know? Like we're only still friends because we picked our noses together in the second grade."
I feel the same.
I'm glad my mom and Mrs. Paul forced us to take pictures.
It was awkward at first, smiling and laughing during such a somber event. asking Jason to act normal. I felt rude and pushy.
But i'm actually selfishly glad we took them. because i believe in keeping records of lives.
this happened.
Mr. Ibrahim died.
It was horrible.
but we all came home to be with Jason, and even if his smile in these pictures is a little forced, i want him to have physical evidence that we were there. we came. because we love him.
real genuine smiles below.
That day is tender in my mind.
these sweet boys.
I had a feeling while we were standing under the same trees in Jason's yard that we stood under at his 13th birthday party, and after an away game in Firebaugh, and now at the funeral of his dear father, that this might be the last time we're all together.
at least like that.
unmarried, not parents, careerless, students
innocent kids.
life is hard sometimes.
i am so grateful that for as long as i can remember, these boys were there for me when my life was rough. My memories with these 3, and their families, are golden, cherished, moments.
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Thank you Mr. Ibrahim for talking to me at baseball games because you knew i know nothing about that sport. Thank you for complimenting me so sincerely and trusting me so wholly. I admire your courage and conviction and the deep love you have for your family.
You were known to tell newlyweds, "Have as many children as you want. They will bring you so much joy."
You lived that belief.
You actions spelled out very clearly what you knew to be true, and they were all respectable things.
thank you for your example of ethics and family life.
from a girl who loved your son like her own brother, and who viewed you as one of her everyday heroes, you are an extraordinary man.
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Jason, I love you. You are so much like your father, but you are completely your own man and i admire that. I wish you all the love and success that you've worked so hard for your entire life. you are one of the most genuine people i've ever known and it has helped me be more open and honest. You have shaped my life more than you know.
Thank you for being there for me my whole life, J. I'm glad i've gotten to be there for you, too.
You will always be the boy with perfectly parted gelled hair and skinned up kick-ball knees. You love with your whole being and one of the most loyal friends of my life.
You can make it, brother.
You will see your father again.
I feel that truth in my bones.
I know it.
Your family can be together again.
I love you, J.
- melissa michiale
