Matt Whitchurch

Yesterday I had the opportunity to say a few words and as always my mind went blank so I stayed in my seat. And regreted it so much. Cause then later, as always, a bunch of words started running around in my head that I wanted to say but just didn't know how to earlier. So here I am again, with one of my long winded posts. Because I write. It's what I do. When life doesn't make sense, I write. When I'm angry, I write. When I'm happy or sad or scared or whatever, I write. And its okay if nobody ever reads anything of mine. Most of its for my eyes only. But sometimes I feel I have to share. So if you have a moment or two or fourteen, go ahead and give this a read. And then say a prayer and kiss your loved ones and give thanks that we are here to say I love you to our friends and family as much as we want to.

Once upon a time there was a young teenage girl. And she had three very best friends. One, a flower child. One, a wild child. And one, an all American child. And the four of them played and played and played. And they laughed and laughed and laughed sometimes so hard they almost peed themselves. They ran around, got into some trouble but somehow managed to stay out of any real trouble. They kissed some boys. They cried some tears over some boys. They danced. They sang TLC songs at the top of their lungs while driving around town with the windows down and feet dangling out. They had fun. Boy did they have fun. And above all, they loved each other. They were there for each other. Whenever, wherever. They were family when some of them didn't have much family. When all she might have had was her friends.
It was a magical time and for that young teenage girl, the happiest time she had ever had in her life. Whenever that girl was down, or upset, or sad, she always knew that she could go to the home of that all American girl. It was a wonderful home with a beautiful mom and a handsome dad. A mysterious older handsome brother and a beautiful fun older sister. And a cute and funny little brother. It was the American dream to that other girl. There were many nights where the girls would be running through that house in order to grab that shirt, or fix their hair, or borrow $10 for gas from the dad. I know they had to have given the mom so many gray hairs. But they were kind anyways. They laughed. They always laughed. You could tell how much they all loved each other. It was to me, and still is, almost unreal how much they all loved each other. Even if half the time they wanted to beat each other (and yes, they still do)! But now, that family is hurting. That family is going through something that is unnatural and unfair and heartbreaking. Because that cute and funny little brother, the family favorite, the baby, lost his battle to a horrible thing called cancer last week.
And yesterday I watched the family that I admire so much lay their son, their brother, to rest. I watched as an American flag was folded and placed in the arms of a 5 year old little boy who will never get to go fishing with his daddy again. I watched as a fathers body jerked with each shot that rang out and a mother sob as the notes of Taps played out. And I prayed for a peace that I knew would not come for a long time for this family. I prayed that God comfort them. And I asked why. I told Him that it wasn't fair. It wasn't right. And I looked around at the incredibly breathtaking scenery around me and I remembered the words of the preacher who said "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away". Matt was given to this world for a too short a time. That is undeniable. But the difference he made in this world was profound. He saw good in people when others saw nothing but bad. He made you smile when all you wanted to was cry. He comforted you when he was the one in agony. He lived his life setting an example of what it means to be a good person. He was truly the epitome of a great man.
And Matt knew where he was going. Straight up, he said. Matt's story isn't over yet. In a way, it's really just begun. He will live on in the hearts of so many people. An uncle will take that little boy hunting and talk about that time his father got lost in the woods. A grandfather will look at his grandson and see the same eyes of the little boy who he once taught to shoot and fish and will pull out a picture to show him of that Big Catch that his daddy caught. His friends will talk about him around the kitchen table and laugh at the memories of a better, more care free time. Matt will live on. Forever. In the hearts and memories of every one he ever met. And one day, we will see him at those heavenly gates, laughing at all of us and asking "What the heck took you guys so long, let me show you around." But until then, I will always remember Bud and smile and remember one of the happiest times in my entire life. I'll remember dragging him and my little brother out with us to cruise town because, as we told the adults, how much trouble can we get in with the two of them tagging around. Which, I can tell you now, was a frightening amount :)
So until we meet again Bud, I'll remember you with a smile and call Stubby an insulting name and give her a kick every once in awhile for you.
Rest in Peace Matt Whitchurch. We'll see you soon....