I went to a funeral today, for a 24-year-old young man.
I didn't know him personally, but he was the son of a friend of mine.
He had just graduated with a degree in psychology, and was planning on graduate school in the fall.
Then he started falling, mysteriously, and losing consciousness. His girlfriend took him to the hospital, and three weeks later they took him off the ventilator. Encephalitis, new onset seizures, origin unknown.
The service was an attempt at a 'celebration', as a funeral CAN be, when the person has had a long life.
Each sibling shared treasured thoughts and stories, each parent tried to convey his rare empathy for others....
Big sister shared a typical text exchange, sharing love and wit about something as simple as what they were each planning for dinner, and the August heat. Mom, too, talked about a text exchange, their secret eggplant emoji for 'I love you'. Dad shared about that time he was 5 and stole 2 dollar bills from his mom so that his friend would have lunch money for their field trip. He didn't know the two bills he has taken were twenties, not ones.
Friends described personal moments that were really quite touching.
There were beautiful readings from Khalil Gibran and Mary Oliver.
But it just so...unfinished!
I didn't even know him, and yet I'm left with a cloud....why do we remain when this beautiful young man is taken??
I am at a loss.
I am so very sorry to hear of your loss, and that of your friends.
😄😇😄
