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I had a few questions about the major issue, and after a meeting I had last night (2nd Oct 2007) I decided I to tell you all, as best I can, the reason for it being a major issue for me, even after so much time…
8 years ago I me a kid called Jamie Bird, a boy who had survived cancer a few years before. Before long we were good friends, and I even remember being told off by his dad, because I was always over their house to hang out with the kid (we had quickly discovered that my house was boring). Well, we became closer than most brothers are now days. So much so that I can confidently say that we never had a single disagreement in our friendship.7 years ago, I became a Christian, and started going to church, shortly after the separation of my parents.6 years ago, he fell ill with head-aches and went into hospital. He was in hospital for a long time, and through a video we made in school for him, I promised to visit him on the Saturday. I broke my promise, choosing to go on a youth club week away. I felt guilty, knowing I’d let him down, as a friend of mine had done the same to me when I had appendicitis. It makes you feel unwanted, and depresses you quite a lot…
I returned from the holiday week, and due to various things, I didn’t return to school to Wednesday. I found out at around 10:15am that day, that Jamie had died a week before of cancer. I was crushed; I left the lesson crying, and as I wept. I came to the point where I was seriously considering suicide. Just as I was about to break one of the mirrors, my intent being to slit my wrists, a classmate entered. He asked if I was ok and took me back to class. I never told him, but I owe him my life.
The funeral was a few days later. I went with the school. I never found the courage to look upon the coffin. I never found the courage to visit his grave. On the 24th, the anniversary of his death I intend to do this. I’m scared of what I may do and think when I’m there, but it has to be done.
Why has this been a burden to me…simply said, he wasn’t a Christian, and therefore…he went to hell. I had a year full of opportunities in which I could have invited him to church, or the youth club it ran…but I didn’t…as far as I know, I was the only church going Christian who knew him, and I left him to die, to go to hell. That haunts me most days. I go to visit him, I guess, to ask for forgiveness…nothing more, nothing less. Perhaps then I can rest easily