In a few months, a few painful moments, my life changed.
We as a family started the year together with expectations, happiness, joy and most of all thanksgiving. Thankful for the gift of love, the comfort of familiar faces and mostly for the gift of family. Isn’t that what family is, in essence?
Warm faces that light up at your presence, a set of people that complete your existence, that make you feel like you are always part of a unit and will always be important; to them, their dreams, their daily struggles and every single second they exist-you are important. Family is a gift and we were grateful for it.
I looked at my brother with such love and joy as he became a truly handsome, mischievous, ambitious young man. I looked at him and I could feel the pride swell up in my bones as I watched him attentively play his beats on his laptop with the dedication of a surgeon; he scrutinized each single sound with his eyes; listening to each rhythm carefully; I know this because I watched him; he fascinated me with his dedication to his dreams.
I, like many, had been tainted by the world’s pressures of conforming to expectations, which had led me to the gates of the legal education. But Toba was sure of not only who he was but, who he was meant to be. So I watched him attentively. His confidence in his future was refreshing. It was a rare sight that held my curiousity.
He hated distractions during these moments; so of course as his annoying older sister I would try my best to get his attention: with a sound, repeated by another and then another till he gazed at me with irritation…but the look was priceless and so worth it. So I would do it again. And again. Till he finally looked up and noticed me staring at him with mischief painting my lips. ‘What.’ He would utter with irritation. I loved those moments.The sheer joy it was to get under his skin the way he got under mine on countless occasions. I would bob my head and laugh and he would sigh inwardly and get back to his craft; his gift; and ignore me.
Those were valuable seconds we shared together. I now find myself scrutinizing my memories like a precious album. I pour over every picture desperate to remember each word, each step he took…I find myself desperately pouring over images of Toba walking…Toba eating…Toba sleeping…because he was my family.
We understood each other to an indescribable level. He could tell by my very movements what I was thinking…I could tell by a simple look in his eyes what he was feeling. We read each other like a book inscribed in our hearts, that only we could understand.
Family. It is all that matters.
In a few months and only a few moments…he was taken from me.
In the most gruesome and heart wrenching manner I could not have ever imagined. I feel those moments in every single day. I dwell on his thoughts, his dreams….the enthusiasm that coloured his love for life…the determination that marked his very existence…I dwell on them. He was truly very special. A precious gift to the world yet to be discovered.
So, in a few months my life has been shaken…my spirit broken…my soul torn just by a few moments of madness that led to a lifetime of pain. For me, for Toba and for my family.
His death has given meaning to my life in ways I cannot begin to explain but there is hope. The words #justicefortylerfray have given some comfort to my pain.
They symbolize purpose; they symbolize peace. But mostly they symbolize justice. For justice is what he deserves. Justice is what will ease the sore wounds from this vicious scar. Justice is what will show that Toba…Tyler Fray mattered. That he indeed walked this earth; from his cries of attention when he was a child to the pure joy that coloured his features when he became a young man loved by many.
#justicefortylerfray brings life to that memory. The memory that was his life.
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God Bless You and Your family.
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