In Loving Memory Of Gahiji Lewis
In Memory of Gahiji
Gahiji was my best friend. Not just a friend — my brother. Someone I could always count on, someone who knew me in ways no one else did. Losing him is a weight I feel every day, a reminder that life is fragile and that pain isn’t always visible.
Mental health is something we don’t talk about enough, especially for men. Too often we’re told to be strong, to hold it in, to “man up” — and so many of us do, silently. I wish I could have done more. I wish I had seen the signs, asked the hard questions, reached out more. Sometimes love isn’t enough to fix what’s breaking inside.
We give flowers when it’s too late. We celebrate lives after they’re gone. But the truth is, the real impact is in the small moments, the phone calls, the check-ins, the gestures of care while someone is still here. Gahiji’s life mattered, his presence mattered, his friendship mattered — and I hope his story reminds anyone struggling that asking for help is strength, not weakness.
I’ll always remember the laughter, the conversations that went on for hours, the moments that made life brighter just because he was there. His absence leaves a silence that nothing can fill, but his memory will always push me to be better, to care more, to reach out more.
Rest easy, my brother. You are loved. You are missed. You will never be forgotten.
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