I know the world is unyielding and cold, and it can hurt you beyond measure.
Death can change a person though, without ending them, and this is the saddest and most essential lesson that all of us have to learn to survive.
I’m going to hate that this is my opening paragraph and I’ll tell you why in a minute. But, for the sake of starting this, let’s just get it over with: another person from my hometown recently died from a drug overdose.
If you live long enough, you’ll eventually lose someone who you love. For me, it happened over Christmas break when I was a sophomore in college. Her name is Chase Parr.
Words are powerful, and they can help us heal broken hearts and broken spirits.
You closed your eyes, and drifted in and out of sleep. I sat by your side, alert. I was ready to be whatever you needed.
About six weeks later, back in our apartment in Chicago, after a few sessions of therapy and countless hours of fighting and crying we sat on the couch and he said simply, “I don’t want to be with you anymore”.
For a long time, I had wondered how cremation looked like. You see, my grandparents were cremated, but I had never been able to see how it was done.
As I light a memorial candle in remembrance of my grandmother, I recall her legacy amongst those close to her. She is known for her sense of style, outgoing personality, and interesting use of humor.
The living’s words of condolences bring no comfort, but only serve as a constant reminder and reassurance of what he has touched and taken.