Dear Henry

Helaine sent this to me and Mom today. I sometimes worry that Jake, Ari and Simon might forget you. You guys were so close, but you also were so young. I worry that you might become an abstraction. I don't know how to explain that to you, but I want them to remember you, the boy. The way you talked, laughed, smelled, walked, slapped them in the butt, drank water from the water fountain. That kind of thing.

Jake wrote this for his English class. I know that I've told you how talented he is by making up song parodies. Clearly he doesn't just know how to be funny; he knows how to feel and how to talk about how he feels. Funny is hard, feelings harder.


HOPE FOR HENRY

I am him, the kid who never stopped smiling, the shining grin never escaping from his sick face.
I am what he loves, superheroes like batman, with a cape and a mask saving the world.
I am where he went, from the bone chilling weather of Minnesota, to his grandparents’ house on the eastern shore.
I am what he felt, love, support, assurance, and the motivation to never give up.

I am why he never gave up, because there was no reason not to try and all the reasons to try.
I am who loved him, his family, my family, my friend’s families, and the world.
I am who he impacted, changing my life and teaching me to never give up.
I am who thanks his for parents never leaving his side when he needed it most.

I am him, the kid who always made you smile, who could make you feel good after a long day.
I am him, the kid that couldn’t hate, couldn’t show anger because he didn’t want to.
I am him the kid who never lost hope even when things couldn’t get worse.
I am his memory, his love, his smile, his spirit, his flame that never died.
I am his hope.
I am Henry’s hope.

Jake Mintz 2008