The Way Things Are
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The Way Things Are
Sybil Corvax Wed Nov 03, 2010 12:34 pm
I returned to school today, after two days of absence, only to learn of the tragic death of one of my fellow students. She was young - fifteen - and had one of the brightest smiles known to man.
So I've been told. I never have met her - nor will get the chance now that she is gone. All the same, I do mourn and I do cry along with the rest of my grade and my school.
There is a book sitting outside the cafetorium at this very moment as I type this. A book so that those who knew this girl are able to write down their final goodbyes and their greatest memories. I only had a moment to look upon its pages, but what I saw hurts me more than the fact that someone so young was taken from this Earth.
She was...
Those words are repetitive in all such books. When one refers to someone passing, the word was is always in the sentence.
She was such a good person.
Words so common. So incredibly common that it hurts that all that people can say are words that have been said so many times before.
There are memories, are there not? Then why do they choose to focus on the fact that she is gone? Why not ask for her best wishes in the afterlife, wherever that may be? Or are we perhaps really that focused on the present to even care of what comes after?
When faced with death head on...when we watch someone we care about die, it's difficult. That is understandable. I myself have seen death many times.
A young boy who was to graduate over a decade ago - barely fourteen - his life cut short by a motorcross accident. It was instant.
My uncle. Five years ago - brain cancer.
And now this girl. I know not of what she died of - simply that it happened over night and that her death has strucken my entire school into stunned silence and mourning. She must be special.
It hurts me to know that I never will get the chance to know her. I never knew my uncle - I had never met him. Nor had I met that boy who died so many more years ago. Death is something that cannot be controlled and it strikes upon us at the most unexpected moment.
She was so wonderful.
Was.
Was.
Was.
That word is ugly to me in this particular context. Does someone stop being 'good' or 'wonderful' if they are gone? Simply because someone has passed away does not mean that it ends, does it not? To mourn is to release emotion and mourning cannot be stopped, but to write something to be read by the family of this good and wonderful girl that they already know? This family knows this girl better than anyone who befriended her, spoke to her, laughed with her, and it isn't right to repeat the same broken sentences over and over and over again in hopes of appeasing yourself.
They already know all of that.
Perhaps, though, maybe I am wrong. Maybe writing 'was' is better than focusing on the fact that her memory will forever live on. Maybe writing and saying 'was' is better than realising that though this girl who touched so many may be physically gone, her words, her smiles, her voice, and her soul lives on in all of our hearts and minds.
Maybe I'm wrong. Nonetheless, had I the bravery to write about a girl I don't even know in a book meant for those who know her better than anyone, I would write this:
She is a person who is loved, cherished, forever and longer. She smiles down upon us from wherever she may be as we cry and mourn and remember everything that she is because even though she is gone, her memories are apart of us and forever will be.
She is a person who will stand by us when we feel down. When we need guidance. When we simply need a friend.
I don't know her. I never will know her now, but that doesn't change the fact that none of us should cry and that I am as effected as anyone else.
Because I never will know her beauty and her story and her person. I will never know what makes her so wonderful that an entire school is brought to silence by her sudden silence.
It hurts and perhaps it always will hurt - though it may hurt some more than others. I cry now and inside, I will continue to cry, but nonetheless, I do feel soothed with the fact that wherever she may be, she is happier and probably in a far better place than where we are right now.
Because she doesn't feel pain. She doesn't mourn. She doesn't cry. She loves, laughs, and lives just someone completely different than where we are right now.
Physically, she is gone, but she lives on within all of us. Especially in those who know her. I will never have that luxury, but it is because of everyone that has had that luxury that I am able to feel this incredible loss that I do.
She will be missed? That is not a way to see someone off into the afterlife. Rest in peace? I've heard that one time too many.
See you next time. Hasta luego. Tomorrow is another day. Someday, we shall meet again. Those are what we should say because there will be a time when we meet her again and though it might not be tomorrow or the next day, it will be someday.
Someday is a day I look forward to because that will be the someday that I realise just what I clearly missed out on.
So I've been told. I never have met her - nor will get the chance now that she is gone. All the same, I do mourn and I do cry along with the rest of my grade and my school.
There is a book sitting outside the cafetorium at this very moment as I type this. A book so that those who knew this girl are able to write down their final goodbyes and their greatest memories. I only had a moment to look upon its pages, but what I saw hurts me more than the fact that someone so young was taken from this Earth.
She was...
Those words are repetitive in all such books. When one refers to someone passing, the word was is always in the sentence.
She was such a good person.
Words so common. So incredibly common that it hurts that all that people can say are words that have been said so many times before.
There are memories, are there not? Then why do they choose to focus on the fact that she is gone? Why not ask for her best wishes in the afterlife, wherever that may be? Or are we perhaps really that focused on the present to even care of what comes after?
When faced with death head on...when we watch someone we care about die, it's difficult. That is understandable. I myself have seen death many times.
A young boy who was to graduate over a decade ago - barely fourteen - his life cut short by a motorcross accident. It was instant.
My uncle. Five years ago - brain cancer.
And now this girl. I know not of what she died of - simply that it happened over night and that her death has strucken my entire school into stunned silence and mourning. She must be special.
It hurts me to know that I never will get the chance to know her. I never knew my uncle - I had never met him. Nor had I met that boy who died so many more years ago. Death is something that cannot be controlled and it strikes upon us at the most unexpected moment.
She was so wonderful.
Was.
Was.
Was.
That word is ugly to me in this particular context. Does someone stop being 'good' or 'wonderful' if they are gone? Simply because someone has passed away does not mean that it ends, does it not? To mourn is to release emotion and mourning cannot be stopped, but to write something to be read by the family of this good and wonderful girl that they already know? This family knows this girl better than anyone who befriended her, spoke to her, laughed with her, and it isn't right to repeat the same broken sentences over and over and over again in hopes of appeasing yourself.
They already know all of that.
Perhaps, though, maybe I am wrong. Maybe writing 'was' is better than focusing on the fact that her memory will forever live on. Maybe writing and saying 'was' is better than realising that though this girl who touched so many may be physically gone, her words, her smiles, her voice, and her soul lives on in all of our hearts and minds.
Maybe I'm wrong. Nonetheless, had I the bravery to write about a girl I don't even know in a book meant for those who know her better than anyone, I would write this:
She is a person who is loved, cherished, forever and longer. She smiles down upon us from wherever she may be as we cry and mourn and remember everything that she is because even though she is gone, her memories are apart of us and forever will be.
She is a person who will stand by us when we feel down. When we need guidance. When we simply need a friend.
I don't know her. I never will know her now, but that doesn't change the fact that none of us should cry and that I am as effected as anyone else.
Because I never will know her beauty and her story and her person. I will never know what makes her so wonderful that an entire school is brought to silence by her sudden silence.
It hurts and perhaps it always will hurt - though it may hurt some more than others. I cry now and inside, I will continue to cry, but nonetheless, I do feel soothed with the fact that wherever she may be, she is happier and probably in a far better place than where we are right now.
Because she doesn't feel pain. She doesn't mourn. She doesn't cry. She loves, laughs, and lives just someone completely different than where we are right now.
Physically, she is gone, but she lives on within all of us. Especially in those who know her. I will never have that luxury, but it is because of everyone that has had that luxury that I am able to feel this incredible loss that I do.
She will be missed? That is not a way to see someone off into the afterlife. Rest in peace? I've heard that one time too many.
See you next time. Hasta luego. Tomorrow is another day. Someday, we shall meet again. Those are what we should say because there will be a time when we meet her again and though it might not be tomorrow or the next day, it will be someday.
Someday is a day I look forward to because that will be the someday that I realise just what I clearly missed out on.
Sybil Corvax- Admin
- Posts : 357
Join date : 2010-01-11
Age : 31
Location : haha, somewhere -
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chanelbags109- Posts : 102
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