missing out on life

I often wonder how much of life I’m missing out on just because I may not be paying attention. Like, how many things pass me by on a daily basis that I could have or should have done or paid attention to. It’s not as if I don’t pay attention to the things around me—and what’s going on—but surely there must be things that we all miss… just because (nobody knows, it just happens). Hmmm. Just something I was thinking about today on the way back to school from the funeral.

As for the funeral… There was a group of 11 of us students from BV. We looked so depressing, all in black. It made me think that, at my funeral, I’m going to request that (or rather, I’ll have my family request that) people wear happy colors like… yellow… and blue… and pink or something. Just none of that all-black stuff! I love wearing black, but come on… if a funeral is a celebration of someone’s life, then why would we want to celebrate that life when everyone’s wearing such a dismal color as black?

Emotionally jarring would be the appropriate words to use about the funeral. I think it really hit me as soon as the casket was brought down the aisle. Wow… that’s my friend in there. My friend who was only a year older than me, my friend who was so full of passion and genius and life and ambition, my friend… who committed suicide. So… hello, tears. The piano was playing some of the most gorgeous songs, but the type that make you just break down (were they written for that reason!? If so, their purpose has been served well). Sitting there in a row with my former roomie and others who lived on the same floor as Tony last year, I tried to think about how other people felt. I think we all pretty much felt the same. None of us had really ever lost a friend around our own age, let alone to suicide. Suicide… wow… that’s one I’ve been trying to ponder all day. You see, I think I could handle the fact that Tony’s life was taken from him, if he’d been in an accident or something like that (sounds bad I know, but hear me out)… something a little more… natural. But the idea of him taking it himself when he had a million things going for him in his near future—much harder to grasp such a concept. The tears that I was crying had a lot to do with that fact. He took his own life, and now his family must be faced with that for the rest of their lives. I saw the looks on their faces… he had around 5 siblings… I saw their tears (and their amazing resemblances in facial features; it was almost as though Tony were there himself). At the luncheon, as they were all sitting around the tables, I imagined myself in their shoes, mourning the death of my own sibling (one of my brothers). I do not know how they made it through that time… those smiles had to be forced… they had to just be dying inside. I know I would be if one of my brothers committed suicide, especially at a young age. I don’t know how I’d be able to handle it……

I know Tony was hurting. But isn’t there a better way to cope with such pain?

*Sigh*… there are many questions in life which hold no immediate answers. Maybe in time we’ll all understand. But then again, maybe not. Either way…