The End of the Road

Sunday afternoon, our very close friend, Jun Huh, died in a motorcycle accident. My husband and I were the first to hear the news from the coroner's office, because when they had gone to Jun's house to try and find his parent's contact information, they found our wedding invitation on his refridgerator. Hoby's aunt works for the coroner, so when she heard that they had found our invitation, she called us right away. Imagine having to tell his mother that her son died on Mother's Day. Not that there would ever be a GOOD day to get that sort of news, but somehow that just makes it seem so much worse.

I've never had any of my close friends die. When I first heard that Jun was dead, I didn't believe it. Not Jun! We were just with him the other day, eating sushi and talking about a girl he's interested in. We had made plans to throw a party together this summer. He can't possibly be gone! Any minute now he's going to come walking through that door and say it was all a big mistake.

Then after the disbelief came the anger. Why the hell was he still riding that stupid motorcycle? Hadn't he learned his lesson when he got into an accident last time? The guy always drove like a maniac. We had all warned him and told him to get rid of that damn bike! Why oh why didn't he listen? It's almost like he had a death wish all along.

And now that the rage has subsided, there's only an aching sadness left. And the tears. Lots of them.

I know this sounds like a cliche, but he was still so young. His life got cut short before he had found out what his purpose for being here was, before he finally met "The One" and settled down, and before he had the children I always knew he'd be so good with. Since I heard the news, memories of Jun have been randomly surfacing and playing in my mind like an old home movie. And now I'll never know how it was supposed to end.

Oh Jun Bug, I hope you know how much we loved you and how much you'll be missed. Things won't be the same without you.