In my (still unsuccessful quest) to find my brass rat (MIT class ring), I've turned every drawer and closet space in my room upside down. Anyone who has ever seen one of my dorm rooms or my apt know that...I have a gross amount of stuff because I never throw anything away. I'm far too sentimental for my own good sometimes.
In the midst of the unheaval, I've spent much time being nostalgic with the random stuff that comes up. Reading letters, examining old sticker collections, looking at pictures traded since elementary school...it all seems normal. And then once in awhile something pops up that really makes me think.
I was rummaging my desk drawer when I found a pewter cross necklace from Scotland. It's rather large and clunky, and frankly not that attractive. Bret got this for me one year, I forgot for what occasion. Maybe it was my birthday, maybe it was Christmas...but he went to Ireland and Scotland with his family, and this is the present he brought me.
Bret was not a Christian - not even close. He was so staunchly atheist, and downright enjoyed being pagan with his obsession with dragons, magic, and other such things in HS. But he was my buddy - the boyfriend of my best friend, by graduation he became one of my closest friends. And though he didn't share in any of my faith, he respected it and thought it was 'cool'.
I find it interesting how every cross necklace I've ever received has been a gift - and half of them from non-believers. (I just got another one for Christmas this year, from my Jewish family - but that's a topic for another time). Now to be honest, when Bret gave it to me, I was thinking..."what is this humongous hunk of metal, does he really think I'm going to wear this?" At the time I thought nothing of it, thanked him for it, and (apparently) put it in a drawer in my room and never really thought about it.
Until now.
Bret and I had kept in contact for a year or two in college then lost touch...he graduated from Bowdoin College and moved back to the Bay Area, where he pursued, at least in his free time, acting and directing plays. I hadn't heard anything about him in about 4 years until very recently when a bunch of my long lost high school friends contacted me.
Bret passed away this year at the age of 25.
He was driving home one night when a drunk driver swerved across the double yellow line, and to avoid him, Bret turned off the road and crashed into a tree. I was in New York when I heard, and was sadly unable to attend the funeral.
Bret was as loyal and genuine as a friend could be. Though he had a lot of anger in his teenage years, he also had a lot of love to give, and that he gave freely to his friends.
Everything someone gives me holds a memory and meaning, and that's why I hang onto every note and trinket that comes my way. This cross reminds me of how short life is, and how our lives are not even our own. Bret, I only regret that I didn't get to share more of Jesus with you while you were alive...though in high school I didn't even understand grace as I do now. I can only hope that whatever feeble seeds may have been planted in our friendship were watered and sown by someone else.
I'll be looking for you in heaven. Until then, I'll be looking at the cross. Thanks for the reminder of who I am.
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