Jeremy Frye. J. Frye. That’s what his friends called him.

You know, the ones who knew him best. The ones who wrote “Miss you dude” on his Facebook wall.

The ones who wished him a happy birthday even when he was no longer here to celebrate it. The ones who started a group in his honor, a group to help comfort them. 

They are the ones who miss him.

The ones who played in the band with him. The ones who laughed at his jokes in class.

The ones who watched him grow into a good educator within the education department.

They are the ones who wish he were still here.

The ones who planted a tree for him. The ones who hovered around the tree telling stories about him and laughing.

The ones who helped establish a scholarship in his name.

They are the ones who loved him.

The ones who stood by his side through every surgery.

The ones who encouraged him when he was sick and recovering. The ones who believed in his recovery up until the very end. The ones who held his hand as he passed away.

They are the ones who knew him best, who miss him most, who pray every day that he will come back. They are the ones who love him.

And we all are the ones who remember him.

Jeremy Frye. J. Frye. <br/>We remember you.We remember you.
We remember you.