She shot herself last Wednesday evening.
When I heard the terrible news on Thursday, "Why??" echoed over and over in my head.
This is my first friend lost, not to old age, not to obvious disease, and not to fatal accident. This friend was lost to that terrible belief that no one would understand, nothing could get better, or what would come after would be unbearable.
No thing is unbearable with support of family, friends, and faith. None. We are fragile, and precious...and we do not have to go through anything alone unless we choose to. We are only as sick as our secrets, she chose to keep hers.
The service was lovely & fitting, though I've not much to compare it to. I viewed her body, sat, talked with friends & her family, cried and cried, and cried some more. I looked into searching eyes of lamenting relatives, practicing alternatives to the cliched "sorry for your loss". I followed the privileged hearse, running lights, stopping traffic, death parade showing everyone, this person was so loved. I watched the casket lowered into the ground, body in a box within a box, interred. I said good-bye to my friend. The entire process is fascinating to me, we insulate ourselves from death so vehemently, it's no wonder I know so little about death ceremonies. *SIGH* Be at peace SLJ.
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there; I did not die.
--- Mary Elizabeth Frye
Love leaves behind much more than Death can take.