I can't seem to say Goodbye...
It just hurts too much...
Zachariah, was my little brother, bot figuratively and literally if you've ever met Levi. As the oldest sibling, I got to watch my brothers and sister grow up, learn things with them and teach them others. As eldest, it was my job to keep an eye on them, on Zach especially, who knew all too well how to get himself into trouble. Trouble that he'd been perfecting over the course of his life and only just beginning to understand how to get himself out of his own messes.
When I think about all the things we did together, all the trouble and chaos we caused together, and all the crazy things Zach went off and did with other people... It starts to get to me, because as I think about all the things he did, I start to think about all that he didn't do. Didn't get the chance to do. But then I stop myself because I realize I had those times with my youngest brother. Times I can remember forever. And I realize as well, that by keeping him in my thoughts, and in my heart, I'm able to keep doing things with him, even if he isn't physically by my side any more.
So I'll speak now of some of the memories that Zach left with us, things far more important and valuable than any worldly possessions. Small moments in time, forever captured in our hearts.
Some times, it was the little things that really stood out about our little firebug. Things like how he could turn any situation not only funny, but hilarious, whether that was his intention or not. We could be watching a movie or he could be trying to describe something to us and it would just build from there. From burning someone with a quick witted zinger or some crazy one-liner, he was keeping us rolling on the floor or just shaking our heads in exasperation. And some times, it was the things that he would wear, like his flaming Lord of the Dance Halloween costume, or building his own Super-hero Suit out of mix-matched clothes and hotel bedding. Other times though, it was as simple as dropping to the floor to do a timely 'Sizzling Bacon'. Off handed comments because long lasting inside jokes, or he'd mix himself up enough to say wice rine instead of rice wine. Things like reading aloud became adventures in fighting back laughter when he'd ask what 'In-vilid con-science' or 'unbendable' meant. Accidental things like falling unharmed out of a tree to find that the tree had some how stolen his pants...
Things like that were luckily all too common with Zach. And they weren't just limited to at home or at friend's places. He'd do them at school or in public, he didn't care what other people thought and wasn't afraid to share his Zachness with the world. Which was probably why he was so fine with dying his hair whatever random colour, whether it was blindingly bright green or neon pink. He was absolutely fearless, in more ways than one. Though the changing hair colours was how he became 'Skittles' to some of us, with how often and how much mischief that boy could get into, he at least got full use out of his complete birth names.
But Zachariah wasn't just our comedian. He was our friend and our brother, to more of us than what his blood might have said. And while Zach may have been a jerk to the general public, even friends and family on more than a handful of occasions, he was there for us when we needed him in his own Zachy way. He was there to help family friends move out, and then myself as well (even though it was to further his own goals of getting a kitten). He'd sit and chill with people, just hanging out or always ready with a hug if you were truly feeling down.
As much as he'd complain about having to help and work, he was still there, doing it and getting sunburned with the rest of us as we built a deck, or just sticking around to pain a few walls. He was definitely a real brat, but all little brothers are like that, and Zach really was like a little brother to all of us.
Zach meant something different to each of you, but to me was my little brother. Whether that meant being a demanding jerk or stubbornly insisting on a good, long hug, to even scrapping and wrestling on the floor. Whatever, it was usually okay by him.
Still, Zach liked to do so many different things, things that seemed to contradict themselves, like his love-hate for the world, he loved the strange variety of people that he made his friends and family. We all loved him just as much, and I could easily go on here for hours, days even, just going on about how Zach acted, things you could find him regularly doing, what he would say. But this is a time of acceptance, perhaps not of what happened, but of what will be.
There was a scholar by the name of Henry Scott Holland who once said:
Death is nothing at all - I have merely slipped away to the next room. I am I and you are you. What ever we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way you always used. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name, be ever the house hold name that it was. Let it be spoken with out the ghost of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant... There is absolutely no continuity. What is death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind, simply because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, an interval, somewhere just around the corner. All is well.
This doesn't stop the love we still feel, nor the sorrow of your passing. You will be missed and remembered, maybe not how you wanted us to, but how we each saw you and loved you, each in our own way. So thank you Zach, for giving us the time you did and the memories we'll cherish for eternity. We'll miss you and continue to love you until time ends. But most of all, thank you, for just being you.
Thank you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2W3u5yXt9Zc&feature=related