First of all, I wrote this story after hearing news of my friends son who at 21, passed last week. He was in a car accident in Oct 2015. It goes like this—
How precious a life. Please do not forget about me, I am a child. Such anguish amidst the blurry eyes. Grown men and woman in tears, a child lies down, people making a path to witness our son for he is silent. Heads down, people pray.
I spent a little time with this boy named Ben, not much really, but I was part of his family. I grew up with his mom and dad, they were our family growing up. The mother was real close with my oldest sibling, friends forever. I am wiping a tear from my eyes, hang on please, bare with me. I remember the camp they had on an island. I remember their young son at the camp, still very young. I also remember their mother who would chase different rail crossings so that this young boy could watch his favorite engines and cars going by. I really think mom was the rail junky. The boys dad was full of adventure, a handy man of sort. The boy took on his dads skilled hands. I remember his dad telling me they would go flying in his airplane. How cool is that, your dad has an airplane.
So sad to see this young man, lying there, parents grieving. My heart goes out to their family. Love you Barry and Trudy, Oh man,tears are falling again. D.H.Bilodeau 2016