Justin – A Life Short-Lived
The day I received the news that you were diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia, my heart dropped. But you said, “Nah, I think I’m lucky. There’s usually a lot of grade school kids that get this disease.” In that moment, you showed me a different side of you—brave, mature, and surprisingly optimistic in the face of something so cruel.
I’m glad you’re in a better place now, no more pain, no more suffering from chemotherapy. When I saw you for the last time at the funeral home, you looked so peaceful, just like an angel. It felt as if you had returned to the very beginning, like the day you were born.
I’m grateful I visited you during your second hospital stay. You showed me how deeply you cared for your mother. That moment touched me more than I can say.
I’m also so thankful I saw you again in May, just before Memorial Day. You weren’t the little kid I remembered—you had grown into a proud, generous young man. You welcomed us to the base, showed us around like a true Marine, and made sure we felt taken care of. You were our guide, our host, and even insisted on paying for everything—meals, shopping at the Exchange, all of it.
I didn’t say enough, but I was so proud of you. You had become someone truly special.
All my memories of you feel like they happened just yesterday.
Now, you are free—free from cancer, from pain, from all struggles. Do all the things you love in heaven. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be strong, and we’ll take care of each other.
Be good up there… until we meet again.