"so you guys are graduating this year?"

those words still ring, resound in my head. we were graduating that year, and did graduate. eric didn't. his dad, trying to make conversation, probably telling himself he was trying to make us feel a little more comfortable. in actuality, just trying to take his mind off the events that had occured.

what made your pain so bad? why did it hurt the way it did? would you take it back, if you could do it again?

i can still hear the first shovelful of dirt hit the coffin. it slid from the shovel, the dirt unaware, blissfully unaware, of what it was burying, sealing off from sunlight, air, life. forever. each shovelful further drove the point home. the distinct slide and scratch that is heard each time the edge of a shovel is dug into slightly damp dirt. pulling it from the pile, tiny rocks spill from the tall sides, jumping from the shovel, not ready to bury a 17 year old. the edge of the shovel starts to tip and the soil spills over. if only gravity skipped a beat, postponed this moment, allowed everyone one more second, if only. but it didn't and the dirt hit against the wood. a quick shower before the rest found its way in, the thud it made on contact. and then another shovelful dropped. another, another.

helpless, hopeless. the feeling will never go away. grief allows one to remember how little everything matters in the big picture. the day to day annoyances. traffic jams, copier james. work stress, family stress. think how much you would take if he could be brought back. trivial, quite, i know.

for a long time i hated you for what you did. the easy way out. you didn't have to deal with it anymore. each day didn't present questions, more thoughts of uncertainty, attempting to find your "why".

looking around where you are now, spending everyday, this plot wasn't meant for you. a man who lived through world war I, the roaring 20's, prohibition, the depression, world war II, the holocaust, the civil rights movement, vietname, korea, that's a lot. even a 20 year old, kerry. you spend everyday surrounded by people you should have lived at least as long as.

thank you for listening and giving me your ear. you deserve to be happy, wherever you are now. the pain you felt, the pain everyone has felt since, is not ever to be forgotten. you, to me, remain a constant reminder that life is not ever how we planned it, for better of for worse. love life, however. love it because it is all you have.