Pat's birthday is tomorrow and I have to confess that it did bring a tear to my eye, even now as I write this. So many memories and yet it was my foolishness that I didn't treasure him more. I should have took that trip to Sac and stayed over. Perhaps I could have saved his life... I miss him a lot and it frustrates me that I miss him most now instead of before. I never knew anyone this close that I have lost and in my comfortable life, I deny the fact that he is gone. I now wait that inconvenient phone call from him, which will never come again. That random phone call that comes in the middle of class or at work, because I know that it is his brotherly love that calls me.
Every bowl of ramen reminds me of him. Every black '95 Civic reminds me of him, even hopes it would be him. I know that these are all memories and they are worth remembering. For that is how we know the feeling of how the disciples felt when Jesus died. What joy it was for them to see the teacher they saw dead raised from the cold, damped grave. If Pat did that now, I yell 'zombie' though... Only Jesus would do such a thing. Well, unless God allows for someone to be raised from the dead, but it would need a godly purpose.
I know it's only the eve of Pat's birthday, but I like to get a head start. Happy birthday, big brother. I miss you much, but I really look forward to seeing you in the midst of great worship! Oh, you would have loved Modern Warfare 2!
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