Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Belated thanks...

A letter to a long time friend.

It has been years now, a long stretch of years, too much time passing, but I still remember that feeling. Though it has been long since we’ve last talked, it is rare that long periods of time pass without me thinking of you.

There is little that I remember about you, regrettably, but I still remember your face, your smile. I remember that from the moment I met you I knew you were “good people.”

And then I get to the same point I always do. I was blind, yet you led me to safety. You brought me home.

For someone like me, that has lived the life I have, that does not easily trust under any circumstances – to give up that kind of control was excruciating. From a detached point of view, the whole thing seems silly to a random passer-by, you led me just as everyone else was led, but there was a difference, there was grace.

To this day I don’t know if was your heart that made me so at ease, your sure directions in the darkness, or just knowing that you would lead me as best you could, that you would fight with me, instead of for me, to get me where I was going.

You gave me back my faith. I had been broken and bruised in time with things so dark I rarely speak of them now, for they are things I would rather not remember. Faith in others – you let me trust again.

I suppose this is the part I’ve been having the most trouble with. I still remember the advice someone gave us during those short days we were at the camp – at various points in your life to write to those people that helped to shape your life – to thank them for what they’d done.

So this is a thank you letter, but at the same time it is not. I get a feeling that thanks in a situation like this isn’t what matters, it is you knowing that you’ve done well for the world – you have touched someone and you have helped him in turn touch others. You’ve helped me become who I am. You needed to know.

You will always be the girl that led me home.

Jake

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