PA Trout
Platinum Member
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2015
- Messages
- 435
On Monday, October 16th it will have been two years since my best friend Jared passed away suddenly and unexpectedly due to a pulmonary embolism. It was two days before his 40th birthday.
As a surprise for his birthday, I had ordered a Busse Boss Street with black cerakote that I was able to snag from a Ganza. I was always joking with Jared about how he had lousy taste in blades and that he needed a proper fixed blade. I was so excited to get the blade for him, I ordered a really nice sheath from Mashed Cat... it was going to be the perfect gift.
In the weeks leading up to his passing, I had missed calls from Jared and forgotten to call him back. I had so much going on, a pregnant wife, a job that had me up to my eyeballs in work, and a home that I was remodeling. He left me a voicemail the week before he died where he said, "thank you so much for the AR15 you built me, it's special because it came from you. It's a sign of our friendship." I had built him the AR about 6 months prior to help him with his "groundhog problem." It was a tack driver. In his voicemail he also said, "I know we haven't spoke in a while because you are busy, but I miss you, man. Let's get together soon and just shoot the breeze." After that voicemail, I shot him a text message to let him know my wife and I just found out we were to have a baby boy. The last text I sent him was a recording of our son's heartbeat on the sonogram. He responded, "That's awesome! I can't wait to be his crazy Uncle Jared!"
Jared and I were friends from childhood. We were through thick and thin, we helped each other in our failures and celebrated our successes. He was the Best Man at my wedding the year he passed away. As a Best Man gift I made him a wedding ring out off a 1888 Morgan Silver Dollar that I cold hammered over a period of about 6 months. It was a slow process, tap-tap-tap over and over again until I got it to just the perfect size. Jared had monstrous hands, just a big guy. He gave his speech at my wedding about our friendship and that ring. There wasn't a dry eye in the joint.
Over the last two weeks I've been making a container from parchment, plaster and papyrus. It's built to break down over time. The container will be buried at the foot of a white oak tree behind his house. It will contain his ashes.
The hardest thing I ever did was deliver his eulogy. My heart still aches. He and his wife were trying to get pregnant the month that he passed. I'm sad to say that they weren't successful.
I've been carrying his Boss Street every day since he passed away. On Sunday I'm going to be burying it to be sure it's with its rightful owner. I thought about keeping it, but I have so much else to remember him by. I feel as if burying his knife with him I'll be able to find resolution with my grief. Plus, Jared loved history, a warrior is always provided with their weapon in the afterlife. He'd really like that.
The moral of the story is this:
Make time for your friends. Tell them how much they mean to you, call them back... especially when you don't have the time.
As a surprise for his birthday, I had ordered a Busse Boss Street with black cerakote that I was able to snag from a Ganza. I was always joking with Jared about how he had lousy taste in blades and that he needed a proper fixed blade. I was so excited to get the blade for him, I ordered a really nice sheath from Mashed Cat... it was going to be the perfect gift.
In the weeks leading up to his passing, I had missed calls from Jared and forgotten to call him back. I had so much going on, a pregnant wife, a job that had me up to my eyeballs in work, and a home that I was remodeling. He left me a voicemail the week before he died where he said, "thank you so much for the AR15 you built me, it's special because it came from you. It's a sign of our friendship." I had built him the AR about 6 months prior to help him with his "groundhog problem." It was a tack driver. In his voicemail he also said, "I know we haven't spoke in a while because you are busy, but I miss you, man. Let's get together soon and just shoot the breeze." After that voicemail, I shot him a text message to let him know my wife and I just found out we were to have a baby boy. The last text I sent him was a recording of our son's heartbeat on the sonogram. He responded, "That's awesome! I can't wait to be his crazy Uncle Jared!"
Jared and I were friends from childhood. We were through thick and thin, we helped each other in our failures and celebrated our successes. He was the Best Man at my wedding the year he passed away. As a Best Man gift I made him a wedding ring out off a 1888 Morgan Silver Dollar that I cold hammered over a period of about 6 months. It was a slow process, tap-tap-tap over and over again until I got it to just the perfect size. Jared had monstrous hands, just a big guy. He gave his speech at my wedding about our friendship and that ring. There wasn't a dry eye in the joint.
Over the last two weeks I've been making a container from parchment, plaster and papyrus. It's built to break down over time. The container will be buried at the foot of a white oak tree behind his house. It will contain his ashes.
The hardest thing I ever did was deliver his eulogy. My heart still aches. He and his wife were trying to get pregnant the month that he passed. I'm sad to say that they weren't successful.
I've been carrying his Boss Street every day since he passed away. On Sunday I'm going to be burying it to be sure it's with its rightful owner. I thought about keeping it, but I have so much else to remember him by. I feel as if burying his knife with him I'll be able to find resolution with my grief. Plus, Jared loved history, a warrior is always provided with their weapon in the afterlife. He'd really like that.
The moral of the story is this:
Make time for your friends. Tell them how much they mean to you, call them back... especially when you don't have the time.
