Footsteps To Freedom

A tribute to my Friend

It has been ten years. Ten long years of no answers, no explanations, no closure. It seems as though he was never here at all. No body to lay to rest, just a “memorial” where people who barely knew him tried to speak about his life. Did they truly know him? Did they know he found solace in Christ while confined to a jail cell?

They spoke in fragmented memories and vague anecdotes, but did they know the battle he fought every single day, trying and failing to break free from the grip of cocaine? Did they know about his relentless struggle, and how much he wished to overcome it?

Did they ever see his sense of humor, the way it lit up a room and brought smiles to weary faces? Did they understand the size of his heart, which was as vast as the sky? I remember the day he took his shirt off in the biting cold and handed it to a shivering homeless man. No hesitation, no second thoughts—just pure kindness. That’s who he was.

No matter his Achilles’ heel, he was a good man and a good person, deserving of more than the hushed whispers and vague recollections that have painted these ten years. What happened to him? Why won’t anyone say anything? Ten years of silence. The authorities claimed they did everything they could, but the trail went cold too quickly; it was as if he vanished into thin air. Friends and family were left with only questions and a gaping hole where answers should be.

It is these moments that define him, these unspoken gestures that truly capture the essence of his being. As years go by, the pain of his absence deepens, yet so does the clarity of who he was. In these ten years of silence, memories of his genuine soul are what keep him alive in our hearts.

As I reminisce over the many memories, I will always remember the genuine man who loved God with his whole heart. I miss my friend, but I take solace in knowing he is resting in Heaven. Though his presence is no longer felt in the physical world, his spirit lives on in the acts of kindness and love he left behind.

In every selfless act, I see a piece of him; in every laugh shared, I hear his echo. His unwavering faith, even amidst his struggles, serves as a beacon of hope and strength. He faced his demons with courage, and though he did not always win, his fight was a testament to his resilience and his deep desire for redemption.

The silence of these past years has been deafening, but in the quiet, I find moments of reflection that bring me closer to understanding and peace. It is in these silent moments that I feel his presence most acutely, as if he is guiding me through the memories, reminding me of the lessons he taught through his life and his unwavering faith in God.

He was more than his struggles; he was a light in the darkness for many, including myself. As I navigate through life without him, I carry his memory with me, a constant reminder of the power of faith, kindness, and love. The pain of his absence will never fully fade, but neither will the joy of having known him.

Rest in peace, my dear friend. Until we meet again.