I have grown up my whole life in the United Methodist Church of Shelbyville. I was baptized there when I was only 8 months old and I was saved and became a member of the church at age 12. While growing up in the church, I made many friends that became like family. One of them was a boy named Garner. Garner and I were good friends. We were born 13 days apart, but he was older. We would hang out on Wednesdays at youth and sit with each other during the service on Sundays. His parents sat right behind us. We would hang out on special occasions when his parents got together with my parents. One of my favorite memories with him was on Halloween. We had a bonfire and went to the haunted woods in town. It was a fun and scary night that I will always miss. My jaw dropping moment was the day that my mom told me that he had died in a car crash with his biological mother. They were riding down the road in their jeep when their Great Dane jumped up into the drivers seat causing his mom to lose control and run off the road. Garner did not have his seatbelt on and was thrown from the car and killed. The moment that my mom told me, I didn't know how to react. I didn't cry, but the tears came later. I didn't want to believe her. I didn't want him to be gone. I remember checking Instagram to see if any kids from his school had posted anything about it. Several people had posted pictures of him saying "RIP Garner."
I never really excepted the fact that he was dead until the funeral. When I saw the casket I immediately started crying. All of our friends were there and we all sat together and cried. We knew that we would never see him again.