My little sister’s fiancé graduated high school recently. It’s obviously a time of celebration, hats thrown, dinner parties, graduation gifts, kids dancing across the stage, flowers decorating the arena, etc.
Arranged similarly to Whitney’s funeral. Eight years after graduation we were laying her to rest forever.
I don’t know the exact statistics but I did know a large handful of kids I was staring at now, on the proudest and happiest day of their young life, would be forever gone within the next decade.
It was only a decade since my graduation and I know at least a dozen kids I went to school with and then attended their funerals. This day was for naught for them. A waste of 18 years when they only lived 20. I couldn’t stop looking around the arena and wondering which kids would be gone in the next year? The next five?
Life can be cruel. I tried to celebrate but the early demise of the kids occcupied my mind for most of the day. Unbelievable how grief has a way of rearing its ugly head at the most inconvenient times.