The Winter Has Passed

Not just any friend. Faithful to the core and an unapologetic lover, the friend I lost lived the life you only seem to ever daydream about while lying on the grass on a pale autumn’s day looking up at the clouds hurriedly scurrying across the heavens. It’s the life you hope to one day mirror and have people look at from a distance and gain inspiration from.

It’s Love conquering death.

To an outsider, I suppose, it would appear that just an animal passed away from my life today. One that was simply owned by us. But losing a dog that makes up a huge chunk of your early memories is nothing to skim over. It doesn’t just feel like mourning a friend, but the final nail in the coffin of your childhood. The part of your life Jesus referred to as what you need to carry into your adult years in order to enter the kingdom of heaven. “Put away childish things”, he said, but somehow part with that childhood without losing the essence of it. Becoming like a child again, to some extent.

What Jesus meant when he made those famous but baffling statements I can only make theoretical and subjective conclusions about. And the only conclusion I’m somewhat happy arriving at is the one where I think of the qualities I miss the most about being a child and consider what it would look like carrying those your whole life rather than simply letting them go when you reach a certain age. Topping the list of such qualities would, without a doubt, be the innocence to evil I had as a child. Having terrific parents, I was not exposed to half the things many others my age were. At the time, this seemed far more like kill-joy parenting than a blessing, but the things I was guarded from are things I’m wholeheartedly appreciative to not have indulged in now. The second thing I miss from those years is the perpetual state of wonder I lived in regarding the smallest of things. It’s as if I was discovering beauty for the first time but not constantly worrying about capturing it and locking it in a cage or hiding it away in poky galleries or dusty museums. I remember just living and enjoying life for what it was. The last thing I miss is the wholehearted trust one invests in spiritual things. I was brought up in the “way you should go”, and simply believed and grasped everything I could without the fog of doubt being able to settle in any circumstances.

To me, this is the essence of being a child, and what I can only hope to salvage from the mourning of today, wipe the dust from its beauty, and not lock it away or adorn a mantelpiece with its splendour, but use it for what it was designed for. Use it to love people and love God outrageously, without fear of failure or fear of the disappointments of rejection. I believe this is what Jesus meant in his teaching, and when I think of the ramifications of such a life, I can only concur that it is a rather daunting but breathtaking way to spend the rest of one’s days on earth, and also the seemingly strange prerequisite to inheriting the kingdom of heaven. But then again, all Jesus’ teachings seemed to have that common thread of peculiarity about them that is so counter-cultural.

Trina, thank you for 14 incredible years of friendship. It’s with many, many tears that I say goodbye today, but with a grateful heart that I say hello to the rest of my life living with the memory and beauty of the three qualities I remember so vividly from my childhood. And the memory of you being right alongside me in that mysterious and fragile time.

I’ll always remember the way you lived and loved and inspired me. I’ll always remember you.