A few family and close friends visited you. I came later. Your sister, Hannah had decided, like the rest of the family that she didn’t want to remember you this way. Most everyone wanted to remember you full of life like you were from birth. Hannah changed her mind last minute. I was happy I was there when she came, because it was so hard for her, Jake. She needed to have closure. She needed to know that you really died because it has been so unbelievable for all of us; especially her. How can you be gone? You were coming home soon. How can this be, Jake? How can life continue without you?
I let everyone have time with you first and finally it was my turn to see you for the last time in this life. We talked for 45 minutes, and it wasn’t long enough. I am so grateful that I was able to hold your hand, kiss your forehead and tell you how much I love you. I even laughed with you as I talked about some of the silly things we enjoyed together over the years. Twice, I saw the corners of your mouth turn up just a bit as you lay lifeless. Maybe I imagined it or maybe it was a miracle, but either way, I saw one last glimpse of life in you, and if I close my eyes, I can see it now.
Finally, I knelt by your casket, and said one last prayer with you. I’m sure you remember how you complained when it was my turn for family prayer because you thought my prayers were too long? I warned you this last time you would have to take it because you couldn’t complain. I held your hand and prayed with you one last time, and then my time was over. One of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do was to walk away from you, knowing that my eyes would never see you again in this life. Jake, I miss you and love you with every fiber in my heart and soul. You have been my joy since the day I learned you were coming into my life. I know I will see you again and what a reunion it will be. Until then, I promise I will try to find meaning here without you and I will keep you with me each and every day.