I celebrated Christmas today. It was one of those random moments that I'm slightly notorious for. There remains a slight perception that in my family people either end up eccentric or crazy - and I have few qualms about embracing eccentricity.

Truth be told, the need to celebrate Christmas had something to do with losing Jonathan. There was some hint of grief and indwelling sadness, a hint that might remain for some time. I couldn't quite make the connection. It's like the lochness monster, I'm still convinced that it's there - I just couldn't find it.

I cooked a traditional Christmas dinner, invited a friend over, and watched some Christmas specials. It was perfect like the morning after the last Pancake and Pajama night. The one with Rebecca still in Georgia. A group had spent the night and studied for a math exam. I was more than ready, and managed to sleep at least 6 hours while everyone else crammed. I was the only one to pass the exam. In the morning, Rebecca made us all pancakes before she went into work. She made a Mickey mouse pancake for Jonathan. It was perfect like Christmas dinner in March.

It feels a little bit as though so many things are broken in my life. I banter around the phrase "in my broken Ukrainian" to describe all of my conversations; this as though at one point I had spoken Ukrainian quiet lovely and fluently and then one day a neighborhood kid hit a baseball through it and suddenly it was broken.

We need a better word:

Flailing?
Stuttered?
Slovenly?

Because it's not that things are broken. It's that things are flailing about in a slovenly fashion. I stutter over the remains of self confidence and stop-gap at memories.

I can't mention baseball without remembering the time that Jonathan was staying at my house and the tree branch fell on my neighbor's roof. It made a tremendous noise, and sounded like someone had broken down the door. By the time I sat up and reached under my bed for the baseball bat, Jonathan was already out on the porch in - with my baseball bat in hand, in nothing but his underwear. It was another of those eccentric moments that made my gossipy neighbors overjoyed.

It will take a while to deal with this grief. It will help to go to his graveside, to visit with his family, to talk with our friends about him. But, this too shall pass. I'll move past mandating holidays and word-association games. Eventually I'll get to the point were things are back to normal. I'll forgive easily and I'll love easily, again.

It might take a few more random holidays. Who's up for Halloween in two weeks? Really.

In memoriam...

Jonathan and I became friends when he decided to write a love letter to my friend, Rachel. I had met him before and didn't like him. He seemed too cocky, to self-assured. We sat on an old pipe that crossed the river and had a strict discussion. A few days later I went to his room to confront him about an action that I found inappropriate. I thought he would blow me off - but soon he started showing up at my house to talk.

Jonathan and I would go on long drives together, he would offer to buy me a beverage every time we stopped at a gas station. I had never paid gas-station-prices for anything, and felt that I was being treated to a real luxury. Sometimes we would steal away to a secret spot to smoke a clove cigarette. This fact embarrasses me now beyond belief - but I haven't smoked in ages and it didn't embarrass Jon; so maybe it shouldn't. We wanted to be rebellious and as middle-class white males we really didn't have much else going in our favor in that department - so smoking would suffice.

With passion oozing out of every orifice, he would explain the latest injustice. Some days we felt like we could change the world - other days felt more hopeless than a quicksand swimming pool.

Now that this long battle is over; I begin to wonder, "What's next?" With whom will I crusade? How am I suppose to change the world without J.G. Pound at my side? Sometimes the weight is oppresive - that I might have to carry out our vision without him. Other days I laugh with joy and hope - Jonathan has led like a true visionary and there are hundreds who will take up the cross to go where Jon has been heading.

Who among our friends will leave behind their vision of a comfy desk job to staff an orphanage in India? Which fellow student will begin working with troubled teens to show them God's love? Who will plant churches? Who will challenge "good Christians" to think a little harder about the theological pills they're swallowing? Who will fight the administration when it tries to screw over students to gain more of the almighty dollar? Who will love people that others find detestable?

You. You who knew and loved our dear friend. You who have loved and prayed and fought to the very end. You will crusade with us. You will live out the vision that Jonathan has boldly proclaimed in the name of Christ.

Sick.

I've been sick this last week. It was just a little virus with no major complications ... but it sure did knock me out for a while. I felt a little ill on Monday night law week, but tried to push through it. I managed to get everything done for English Club last Tuesday, but I had to go home sick in the afternoon - and I was in bed sick for the next five days! I managed to make it through the whole day on Sunday, but I have been taking it easy since then. I'm still at about 50% energy!

Sorry for not blogging at all these last few weeks.