Death is a Part of Life

Friday, my boyfriend and I got in a car accident. Thankfully no one was seriously injured, but the car was totaled and I've been in quite a bit of pain over the past few days. I'm sore all over and my right leg is pretty angry with me. Overall, we're okay, and that's what's important. Today, I got some news that made my weekend even worse.

Tonight, I found out that a girl that I went to school with from seventh grade on, a girl who lived a road over from me, and who I was best friends with for a few of those years, has died. I don't know how, I don't know exactly when, but it's become obvious through her sisters Facebook updates, and some friends' status', that she's passed.

I saw her a few years ago, while working, and she seemed so happy. We haven't been close in years, and we've only talked briefly since graduating, but I keep thinking back to all those memories from middle school. We called each other Phil and Lil, after the twins from the Rugrats. Visiting my mother's recently, I was sorting old papers and I came across a bunch of notes from her. I believe I threw them away with other old papers, and now I wish more then anything I'd kept them. To reread, to relive those innocent days, when the real world, things like friends dying, was something no one ever had to think about. It's incredible how someone can mean so much to you at one point, and then just drift away. Everyone we meet impacts our lives, and all of these people should be treasured. They make us who we are.

I read the status' and comments on her pictures on Facebook from her little sister, who I haven't seen since she was probably 10. I see the things her older sister says, and I think about the nieces and nephew she's leaving behind. Her stepfather, her mother, her little brother, her husband. All of these people have lost a piece of their hearts. I've never been very affected by death. A person has passed, a person that I was at one time close to, but I don't feel for her. I feel for her family. I feel for everyone close to her that has to go on, that has to try and put a band aid over that hole, just to continue to live. My heart aches for them, I cry for them. But I can't find it in myself to feel much of anything for my friend.

I feel so empty when it comes to those in my life who've died. Maybe there's something in me, the part of me that should grieve, that's broken. I don't know. What I do know is death is a part of life, and I've always accepted that without question. That doesn't change the fact that I know this was wrong, that her life was stolen from her and her loved ones.

 'Lil' was 26 years old. She had a husband. Her younger sister is currently serving our country in the military; her older sister is mother to 3 beautiful children. She has a younger brother who's still in school. She's an aunt of three, and she would have made a wonderful mother. She was funny, kind, and friendly. I watched my first horror movie at her 13th birthday party, (the Ring) even though my mother forbid me to, and slept with the lights on for a week. We used to copy each others homework on the bus to school, and listen to her little hitclips on the rides home. I remember her running across the yard of the woman who lived behind her house so she could come see me without having to walk so far, and the old lady got so angry. We would hunt for change to go to the little store around the corner for treats. Sometimes she'd walk down the road to get on the bus at my stop in the mornings. We played all kinds of games, I remember 'playing' Coyote Ugly in particular. We'd stay up all night playing poker and blackjack, betting candy. We made forts from blankets, and went to the mall and watched movies; we enjoyed those last remnants of childhood together before high school. So while I can't find myself feeling anything about 'Lil's death, I do find myself aching for her life.

People never really die, they live on through everyone their soul's ever reached out and touched.