Death Of A Friend

April 2, 2010

By: Travis W. Lewis

Almost forty years have passed since I attended his funeral that day and looked down upon the remains of a true buddy. He had been my friend, yea, much more. He was my strong mentor, and, though I never told him or anyone else so, I regarded him much as an adopted father. I suppose I had never thought of the day when he wouldn’t be there. It seems not much more than a few months ago since that’s the way it was. Strong, vibrant, life loving, confident – that was him. He was the one who set me on the path toward the vocation that would serve me well, though neither of us could have ever dreamed of either the destination to which it would carry me and my family or the hurdles I must cross along the way. I suppose I had assumed he would be there as far into the future as I cared to gaze at that time. Yet, it was not to be.

As I stood briefly and studied his motionless form, I lightly stroked the hand resting on his breast. And I believe only then did I begin to grip a reality that was as cold and hard as the hand I touched. Tomorrow, he wouldn’t be there for me to call should I be in a bind; nor would he ever again be calling me in the wee hours of a bone-chilling morning with greetings like, “Hey, Louie; gotta’ go; be by in five minutes.”; and though cognizance probably failed us at the time, we would share the excitement of being the heroes of some community or maybe just a single family waking to darkness and cold. It was just part of the pain and fun that, when shared, forms a special bond.

As I turned to move on, I recall whispering to myself in, what I now suppose to have been, a mixture of self-pity and resolve, “From now on, it’s me alone, but I’ll do my best, just like you wanted, yes, just like you would have wanted.”. So, I turned and, in my sobs, walked away. I reckon that no one noticed. There was no reason to. Being only twenty-three years old, I could not fully comprehend the sharpness of the turn my life was taking and how things would never be the same again.

I reckon it becomes so at various times in most of our lives. Without warning, circumstances change drastically in a virtual instant, unexpectedly and permanently. And, as much as we might wish to return to that part of our past, such cannot be. Time continues its relentless march forward, and we are changed forever. None of us can deny and few are so naïve as to not agree that mortal life is in constant flux, and we yearn for something to which we can anchor, something or someone to serve as an unchanging, undying point of reference.

It was so during that period in my life forty years ago when, in earnest, I began to consider whether such a true anchor existed at all. [1] These scores of years have afforded lots of experiences – children, grandchildren, various positions in the workplace, loss of loved ones, feeling that I had lots of friends only to eventually learn that they were much fewer in number than I had thought. Some of those years would provide higher levels of income than I thought possible, while others were not quite that good. Yet, through it all, I lived and learned some costly, often painful, lessons – that friends, even those who have stuck with me to the end, eventually exhaust their strength and succumb to the onslaught of years.

Still, there is one who is wholly capable of being that true, tried, and trustworthy friend who never forsakes and whom passage of time does not enfeeble. Infinite wisdom, limitless power, continually present, eternally concerned – He is wholly capable of being all that. And He is the one whom I recommend that you come to know as a friend. His name is Jesus, and I highly commend Him, not only to you, but to the whole world. Ω

[1] The death of my friend, Joe Earl Davis, which is described above, occurred on October 31, 1970, almost fifty-four years ago at time of posting the essay to this website.