"He's with God now."
"I'm at peace with it."
"It's all part of God's plan."
These were the phrases I had heard throughout the week. I don't believe a single word of them, because you can't be gone.
Remember when we were younger? We ran bare foot out in the back yard not caring about the dirt or mud on our clothes. You were such a mess. While the older kids went to go play out in the canyon you stayed inside with me and played barbies. You were my buddy. I taught you how to do ballet (which is why we always see you standing on tip toes anytime you walk), I helped you swim (You almost drowned a few times, but you got the hang of it), I kept you within the boundaries (so that way you were safe).
You taught me how to build cars (Lego cars, because they were fun), You helped me smile even when I was sad or mad (half the time you were the reason, but even though you were such a little shit, I loved you), You pulled me out of the boundaries (so that way we could have fun).
Remember that time when you wanted to watch a movie? I think it was Toy Story, because you loved Woody. I had curled up on the couch laying down on my side. You thought that looked more comfortable than the ground, so you curled up right in front of me. Your curly blonde hair fit right under my chin and your tiny body melted into mine. To be on the safe side and keep you from falling off the edge I wrapped an arm around you. To keep you safe, to keep you secure.
You were so gullible too. I had to leave one day and my mom was trying to tell you why we had to leave. We had to go see her friend Bruce for some reason and she turned to you.
"Bruce, you know like Bruce Wayne."
You sat there staring up at her bug eyed. "You're friends with Batman?" you questioned in awe.
We all got a good laugh.
We all still get a good laugh. You were fun, you loved to laugh, you were my buddy.
So this can't be real. The kid on the news is someone else. It's not you. You're a wild child, you do things that are fun, you are a mess. We all loved you fiercely anyways.
So this can't be real. The kid whose pictures are being shown in memory of isn't you. You're a sweet child, you're full of life, you are a mess. We all loved you unconditionally anyways.
So this can't be real. The kid in the casket isn't you. You're just a kid, you just got your license, God you were such a mess. We all love you too much to let you go.
You are my buddy.
Which is why I'm still looking for you, because you love hiding and jumping out of no where to scare people. Which is why I'm still waiting because you always show up late.
Even as I sit here listening to people tell stories with tears in their eyes. I don't believe it.
You're about to walk through the door...any minute now. When you do your stupid goofy bright beautiful smile will light up your face, your hands will look like pistols as you shake them at us tauntingly, and you'll be laughing yelling 'Gotcha! Got you, got you, I so got you! Hahaha You guys fell for it!'. Because you liked to take jokes to far and at the wrong moments. We'll be mad at you, we'll probably try to beat you up, but you're so much stronger and faster than what you were when I held you close to me as we watched movies. We'll love you and laugh with you later though, because that's what kind of person you are.
You are such a mess Jess.
~In Loving Memory of Jesse~
I love you cousin
November 1997 - March 2014