Pass On But Never Throw It Away
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It was a late summer afternoon when an upset girl, named Brenna, found it—this journal. Black and worn with a turquoise design down the center, a red flower in the upper left corner, a large multi-color diamond at the bottom, and two arrows that encouraged its contents to be read. What caught her attention however, was the message taped on it—
ROCK
THIS
JOURNAL
She raised an eyebrow as her curiosity grew, she picked the journal up and sat down on the park bench she found it on. Brenna sighed as she opened the journal and read:
Rule número uno– we may pass on but we wont ever throw it away…
Hey there… lovely person!
I guess that you can call me ‘J’.
I’m dying. Don’t you dare feel sad for me, I don’t, so neither should you.
Really, if I find out you’re feeling upset, I swear that I’ll come back from the grave and slap that ugly frown off of your beautiful face. I just thought that I should get that little fact out of the way, so that you might understand me and my message.
My brother and I are best friends, he always looked after me growing up, especially when our parents weren’t all that involved in our lives.
My brother almost committed suicide after returning from Afghanistan last year; he’s a Marine and was a P.O.W. He had seen things that have scarred him for life. His best friend and the rest of his buddies weren’t lucky enough to return home to their loved ones, not alive, anyway.
Thankfully, however, I was able to see my big bro, and I was able to slap (and I do mean that literally) some sense into him, just as he was about to pop down 2 bottles of prescription meds. I screamed at him about how suicide was the absolute most selfish act that one could perform.
I had to ask and remind him of his buddies and their families, and how they would be upset that he would just throw away his life, which was spared. I asked him what it was that they would want him to do with his life, to which he reluctantly replied, “live.”
As I sobbed, I grabbed him in the tightest grip I could muster and swore to never let him, my best friend and older brother, out of my sight, ever again.
After that incident I made sure that he got the proper treatment for his PTSD, and made it a habit of telling him how much I loved my older brother, and promised that I would never take a moment of our sibling time for granted…he also promised.
Now, I’m writing to you, lying down like a couch potato, trying to get out a message to you, that you are—and I do mean this in the kindest of ways—an idiot.
What are you doing reading this random journal? Huh? Why aren’t you spending time with your family or friends? Why are you taking your time with those who love you, for granted? Do you not realize what you have?
Those are the questions that my parents are asking themselves as they stare at me now, with regret in their eyes. They constantly apologized for not being there for me, and being as life is unexpected and short, I have decided to forgive them.
My mother is holding my left hand, my father is bringing up our trips to Disney World, when I was little, and how he would take us again if I could only get better.
Anyway, the reason I’m writing to you is in the hope that you will never forget what and whom you have. No mater how much you feel alone and secluded, that is a lie, there will always be someone to listen and care.
So go on the next page, and write your own entry, be free of your loneliness. Enjoy and share your life with your loved ones. I want you to encourage others with this journal. I want you to ROCK THIS JOURNAL!
-J
ROCK
THIS
JOURNAL
She raised an eyebrow as her curiosity grew, she picked the journal up and sat down on the park bench she found it on. Brenna sighed as she opened the journal and read:
Rule número uno– we may pass on but we wont ever throw it away…
Hey there… lovely person!
I guess that you can call me ‘J’.
I’m dying. Don’t you dare feel sad for me, I don’t, so neither should you.
Really, if I find out you’re feeling upset, I swear that I’ll come back from the grave and slap that ugly frown off of your beautiful face. I just thought that I should get that little fact out of the way, so that you might understand me and my message.
My brother and I are best friends, he always looked after me growing up, especially when our parents weren’t all that involved in our lives.
My brother almost committed suicide after returning from Afghanistan last year; he’s a Marine and was a P.O.W. He had seen things that have scarred him for life. His best friend and the rest of his buddies weren’t lucky enough to return home to their loved ones, not alive, anyway.
Thankfully, however, I was able to see my big bro, and I was able to slap (and I do mean that literally) some sense into him, just as he was about to pop down 2 bottles of prescription meds. I screamed at him about how suicide was the absolute most selfish act that one could perform.
I had to ask and remind him of his buddies and their families, and how they would be upset that he would just throw away his life, which was spared. I asked him what it was that they would want him to do with his life, to which he reluctantly replied, “live.”
As I sobbed, I grabbed him in the tightest grip I could muster and swore to never let him, my best friend and older brother, out of my sight, ever again.
After that incident I made sure that he got the proper treatment for his PTSD, and made it a habit of telling him how much I loved my older brother, and promised that I would never take a moment of our sibling time for granted…he also promised.
Now, I’m writing to you, lying down like a couch potato, trying to get out a message to you, that you are—and I do mean this in the kindest of ways—an idiot.
What are you doing reading this random journal? Huh? Why aren’t you spending time with your family or friends? Why are you taking your time with those who love you, for granted? Do you not realize what you have?
Those are the questions that my parents are asking themselves as they stare at me now, with regret in their eyes. They constantly apologized for not being there for me, and being as life is unexpected and short, I have decided to forgive them.
My mother is holding my left hand, my father is bringing up our trips to Disney World, when I was little, and how he would take us again if I could only get better.
Anyway, the reason I’m writing to you is in the hope that you will never forget what and whom you have. No mater how much you feel alone and secluded, that is a lie, there will always be someone to listen and care.
So go on the next page, and write your own entry, be free of your loneliness. Enjoy and share your life with your loved ones. I want you to encourage others with this journal. I want you to ROCK THIS JOURNAL!
-J