If you know James Blunt, you know sadness. You can hear it not only in his lyrics, but in his voice. I know sadness tonight, not because of James Blunt, but because life brings sadness to people. It's inevitable.
"As strong as you were, tender you go. I'm watching you breathing for the last time. A song for your heart, but when it is quiet, I'll know what it means and I'll carry you home. I'll carry you home."
Sunday night, I logged on to facebook to find that a girl had about 8 new comments on her wall. Her brother had passed from a heroine overdose. I began to feel my face get warm, and tears soon ran down it. Why? I didn't know James. I wasn't even aware of his existence until after he passed. If I hadn't read these comments, would it have made a difference in my life? Probably not, no. James was 20-years-old. I had never met him, but I miss him.
Wednesday afternoon I went to a friend's house to have dinner, and enjoy a night out of my dysfunctional home. I had my phone off, figuring I didn't need it, but eventually turned it on to see if my mom was trying to get hold of me. Four missed calls. Eight new text messages. One new voice mail. These were all from my mother with the acception of one or two, so of course I called her back. An extremely close family friend passed a few hours earlier from cancer. I was heartbroken, but didn't shed a tear. Funny the way we react to different things.
"...you were one of the brightest stars."
In loving memory:
James Hoferichter
Rick "King Richard" Marks
Ryan Olsen
