Memorial to Thorsten

13241682_10100635759416470_1854416226_o-1-1These past several nights you have been in my dreams. The dreams are joyful, hopeful, full of life – just like you. And then I wake up.

I wake up asking why are you gone? You’re supposed to still be here. There are people here who need you; your friends, your family, all those kids who called you “uncle.” We all still need you.

And while I do fully believe that you watch over us with tender and loving care, it’s just not the same. We’ll never get a hug from you with our arms. We’ll never get to see your smile with our eyes. We’ll never again get to hear your laugh with our ears. That knowledge hurts. It hurts like a hole in my chest. It stings like salt in my eyes. It aches like a heaviness on my heart.

There were so many more adventures you were supposed to have. You were supposed to go on road trips – both planned and spontaneous. You were supposed to go camping with your friends, drink more beers, tell more stories. And with both you and your grandpa in Heaven, who is going to teach all those kids how to fish?

I guess that’s left to us here below. It’s up to us to take road trips, raise our glasses and toast your memory, go on camping trips and tell stories about you in the light of a campfire under the stars. And it’s up to us to teach those kids to fish.

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  1. On being “lucky” | Just One Take

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