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September 02, 2008

resting places

Any words to describe my swelled thoughts are simple cliche, and even that thought is cliche. I cannot come to understand anything that has not already been understood, or love anything that hasn't been loved, or experience a feeling or grief or longing that hasn't been felt, grieved, or longed after. The most of what I cannot explain is why, in one decade, I have held the cold, still hand of my 14-year-old cousin Shane in his casket, or why I am on a train to Indiana where I will meet my dear 9-year-old cousin Evin.

But I know that God is merciful and most just. I don't know how to incorporate God as the Hero in this life of bitterness and sweetness, cold and hot, few and plenty. But it is there, somewhere, though I can read a mere couple pages in. I can only experience this bittersweet catastrophic life that is mine, a tiny story in the grandest epic of all time-which is, time itself.

So, I will not try to explain. I will listen to the words blasting in my ear by Hillsong, singing "You are All Glorious". I will silently hold Stevie as she cries on my shoulder asking "Why?", while inside the only answer I can think of is "Because." And on my way home I will sing "Let Us Adore Him" and nothing else. I will suck it up and move on with my meaningless studies to receive a meaningless piece of white paper. Maybe I can take this as a reminder of the only aspect of life that isn't, friends, acquaintances, customers, coworkers, and strangers. Nothing else matters when you stand before a casket, taking in the sight of his body and holding his hand, weeping.

Rest in Peace

Evin James Jarman

March 3, 1999-August 29, 2008

Shane Ryan Ellis

June 5, 1987-August 24, 2001

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