Letting others do my work

Another 15th. There have been 3 that have passed now.
People often call me a writer. I'm not a writer. I'm a teller of my story. My older brother Mathew, now he's got a gift for words. Matt recently shared his words with me from the days surrounding Scott's death. He so perfectly captures what was in the heart of so many.
He is kindly letting me share them here.
Josh, is another kind soul that is letting me share his work here. Josh took this picture this week at what is now called "Cheddar Point". This is the place where Scott's ashes met the water. Where the last part of his physical being was returned.
For those of you confused by "Cheddar Point", Cheddar was a special nickname for Scott. A nickname that transcended 20 years of friendship.
To know that this beautiful place is where Scott rests, offers me more peace and comfort than I ever imagined.

Thank you Matt and Josh. Thank you for sharing with me and allowing me to share with others. Thank you for being such important people in Scott's life. To know his love is really to be loved. Consider yourselves loved.

Here are Matt's words.

Going to see my brother-in-law. May be the last time I ever see him. He's going to die soon. The world loses. The whole damn world. Not just my family, my niece, my sister... the whole fuckin' world. All the people that never knew him are now sold short. They never knew his humor; they never knew his goodness, his kindness and his openness. They never knew how much... no matter what he had going on, he always wanted to know more about how you were doing. How things were in your life. He always used to ask me if I had that five bucks I owed him. I don't know that we ever borrowed a dime from each other but we always asked each other about that five bucks. That was him. Goofy bastard could make a joke with nothing to work with.
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So we let him go because we have to, not because we want to. We'd like to believe there is a bigger part of our hearts that will send him away fondly so that he can be with his parents and his sister and his brother. We send him away knowing that for some of us, we have so many years still left here. For those of us who know how much time we have left here to toil amongst the seasons, amongst the density, we feel guilty for a moment and jealous for another because we wish somehow it were us instead of him. Because we know that he would value, treasure and use that time if he knew that he had it. If he knew that he could be healthy for years to come, there's not a minute he'd waste. He'd stop only to sleep. As for those of us now who use our time so unwisely... There are tremendous lessons to be learned from him. Will we apply them? Or will we just crack another beer and go to church?