I just found out that a sweet, sweet friend at our old church met Jesus today.
His name was Bill. He was, to me, a trash talker, a sore card game loser, hater of peppercorns, gardener I looked up to, hilarious, a loose canon, kind, someone who loved to pick on me any chance he got (which I loved), a highlight of every church function, who always expressed genuine disappointment and then fussed at me when we weren't at something, the man who always greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a hug, who I always looked forward to seeing, who I never felt weird saying "I love you" to, a sweet husband to an equally fun and likable woman, unafraid of being real and honest about what he was thinking, a fighter.
I haven't seen him in about a year and have immense regret about that right now. His health wasn't great when we left, but we always said we would keep up the trash talking and card playing. We didn't.
Just now, I was crying in the kitchen. Josh came in carrying Manny. While he was hugging me, Isaiah ran up to my legs and said, "Mommy I just want to give you a hug. Mommy, why are you crying?"
I said, "Because one of my friends died today. He's with Jesus now, but I'll miss him."
Isaiah emphatically said, "But Mommy, we can just get in an airplane, and fly reeeeel fast up in the sky. That way the firetruck can't come and give us a ticket because he can't reach us 'cause we'll be way up in the sky, and then we can go see your friend!"
Bill would have laughed at that.....and then somehow find a way to make fun of me for it.
I love you, friend. We'll get that card game before too long. You better keep your "skills" up. :)