First and foremost, I cant even begin to express the profound feelings running around right now, and the things I wish I could say but find myself stumbling to find the inadequate words.... but want you to know that our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
It has been so many years since I have seen or talked with Aaron, and certainly have wished I how he was doing, and regrettably over the years many of the memories have faded, although there are still a few which come to mind.I thought perhaps I could tell a story from when we were boys in Rob Lee's 'Blazer' class. I could have reminisced over a scouting adventure or even hike which resulted in a campout sleeping under the stars with porcupines walking over the sleeping bags, or the yearly Christmas Caroling stops at the Thatchers home, dinners, or so many other times simply associating with the family... but I think the one I want to share is one night when I stayed over at the Thatchers.
I have no idea what we ate for dinner that night, maybe we watched a movie or an episode of the A-team, I cant really remember, nor do I remember which games we played as we stayed up half the night trying to keep the noise down so his parents didn't realize we were still up (little knowing at the time that parents ALWAYS know when their children are staying up well past bedtime)... but I do remember when we were playing and Aaron decided to show just how accurate he could throw a baseball.
I cant remember the exact layout of the upstairs but I remember that Aaron and Jeff had a room at the end of a long hallway. We stood just outside his room, and I watched as Aaron walked down the hallway and set up a pillow resting on the wall, and then waled back to where I was standing. I remember watching and listening as he explained how he would stand, how he would proceed to throw the ball and just where his fingers needed to be to turn the throw into an accurate fast ball.
So there I stood, amazed at what was sure to be a fantastic picture of my friend, throwing the ball and watching it stop harmlessly in the pillow.
Well as I am sure you can all imagine, that's not quite how it ended up. It was almost slow motion as I watched Aaron go through the perfect and fluid motion of winding his arm, picking his target, and letting lose the fastest ball I had to that point ever witnessed. Time seemed to slow down even further as I watched the ball completely miss the pillow and punch a big hole in the sheet rock.
Those were good days Aaron, and will always thank you for allowing me to share some of them with you.
Miracles happen every day, both big and small and my prayers are truly with you that a miracle is in your future. All my thoughts and prayers for you and your family.
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