Lyle,
I have pictures of you floating around in my head. I see a sprite of a boy merely four years old holding his breath under water in his parents big jacuzzi tub, scaring me to no end and wondering, “When is he going to come up?” Suddenly you pop up, shake off the water, proudly and loudly asking, “How long was that!?” Then I see a twig of a boy sparring with his Uncle Alan, squealing and giggling with delight and ambition that he’ll somehow get the upper hand against the old man. I see you stride through my back door, head held high with a huge grin and a booming voice announcing “Hello Aunt Michele” and offering an equally exuberant hug. That smile...
I don’t know where you went in the past years. It seemed that sometimes you were working diligently on a goal, set to better yourself, and sometimes you were stumbling, but you appeared determined to make things good. And then you were gone. I can’t imagine the sadness and pain you were in. Oh how I wish I could have lifted a little bit of your burden. I wish you would have just run from the pain and worked your way back to where loving arms were always open. Your mother, your father, your sisters and aunts and uncles all would have caught you. I would have caught you.
My heart is heavy. It just can’t comprehend how or why. I can’t hold back the tears. I want to whisper to the almighty, “He didn’t mean it, bring him back.”
May the angels greet you and smother you with loving kindness until your pain subsides and joy returns. Rest In Peace. I will miss you.