Mark!

Thanks for your email.  Justin has been on my mind almost every day in the past few months.  I am so grateful to have known him and the rest of you, Chesnuts.  I have two things to share.  The first is an article I wrote for the Papyrus that was printed a week after Chester passed.

Justin Chesnut was a 2007 graduate magna cum laude of Greenville College.  He was a double major: Social Work and Management. He was a brother, a son, a boyfriend, a best friend and one of the most beautiful people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. Justin suffered from muscular dystrophy, and died of heart failure at his home in Effingham on Wednesday, October 15th in the morning.
There are so many things that can be said of Justin, that it’s very difficult to whittle it down to a few short paragraphs for this article so I won’t try. I will say for myself that Justin had the faith of biblical proportions. Through constant struggles with his health, he achieved more than most: valedictorian of his high school, continued walking until he was 20 (when doctors said no later than 12), nearly straight A’s through 5 years of college, competed nationally at Future Business Leaders of America, Chi Beta Sigma scholar, and many other accomplishments. Never once did he complain about his disease, or use it as an excuse not to do his best. Justin’s life is a beacon and an example to all of us.
I wanted a few others to share their thoughts about Justin. Professor Jack Chism had this to say: “Justin couldn’t reach behind him to pass papers; he couldn’t raise his arms high enough to write on a chalkboard.  But in his years here, I never heard him complain about that or anything else.  He knew he’d never see a thirtieth birthday, but still studied hard, prepared for the future, and faced his troubles with good cheer, always.”
Chair of the Management Department Dr. Ivan Filby “I have so many good memories of Justin. My overwhelming memories of him were that he was always well prepared for class and was very bright indeed. I recall being with him in Nashville when he placed 4th in the nation in the Phi Beta Lambda Management Analysis and Decision Making competitive examination. I was so proud of him and bragged about him in all of his classes. I still do! He had a deep faith and was always positive. I am really glad to have known him and that we will have eternity to hang out together.”
While praying together the night after he passed, Ian Kitterman, a 2006 graduate who was Justin’s personal assistant for nearly 3 years, said “I think it’s ironic that God would use someone who was so weak, to teach me about strength.” Muscular dystrophy is a degenerative muscle disease, and Justin was confined to a wheelchair.
Before Justin passed he spent a lot of time talking to his brother Jared Chesnut about heaven, and he was confident that the first things he would do would be to play the piano, the saxophone, and baseball again. Justin said he’d be the best shortstop Jared had ever seen. And if I know Justin, he’s practicing ever so diligently, and he will be the best that any of us have ever seen.

The second thing I’d like to share is not so much a memory but how Chester still has a huge affect on my life.  And at the risk of sounding kind of silly, I’ll tell you.  Whenever I’d use a public restroom I’d almost always use the handicap accessible one.  This was simply because it’s larger, less of a chance for me to touch anything in the bathroom other than the floor with the soles of my shoes. Often I’d wonder what would happen if an actual handicapped person came in while I was using it, “would I be embarrassed?”  Luckily it never happened.  In light of what happened recently I decided to stop using the “extra large” stall and use a regular (read that as “extra small”) stall instead.  I call it a “pouring one out for my homie” just like I’ll take every opportunity to make a pun joke in tribute to Ian Kitterman.  This adjustment of my behavior is a tribute to Chester, though the tribute is only known to me, which is fine.  Every time that I go against my regular actions I think of Chester, I think of our friendship and his great love for me, I think God for him, I pray for him and his, and I pray for myself.  In this way I also do not forget about him (how could I possibly?)  For this is one of my biggest fears, forgetting.  I’m so happy that Chester is in a better place, and he’s whole, and completely fulfilled, but I am also still very sad to be without him.  Thank you for the opportunity to put my memories of him into words yet again, because he still lives on inside us, and remembering him makes him feel alive to me.

Merry Christmas, Chesnuts.