Wednesday, May 02, 2012

If they knew how much they were loved . . .

I went to pick up my daughter from school and cars lined the streets for blocks.

"Hmmm, must be a track meet," I thought, but then I noticed people walking to the church adjacent to her middle school and remembered.

There was a funeral, for a young man who took his own life.

Traffic was slow and backed up as parents came to pick up kids and funeral attenders looked for parking. Forced to wait, I watched hoards of people approach the church doors. It must have been full inside, as a long line stretched down the sidewalk, waiting to get in. I saw coworkers of the mother, teachers, friends and many, MANY teenagers. The setting was so somber I felt guilty about the purr of my engine. I wanted to shush the kids leaving school, yelling to their friends in usual fashion, unaware of the pain inside the building next to them.

A long line of people. And they kept coming and coming and coming.

I didn't know the kid. Never met him. Only knew his mother as a teacher at school. But that line made me sad. My nose burned. My stomach got queasy. It struck me ironic the way life intersected death in that church parking lot. It wasn't that long ago he would have been one of these middle school kids running through, in a hurry to get home from school. Who could have predicted his life would end this way?

People kept coming. The line moved, but never diminished.

If he knew how many people would attend his funeral, would he have found a reason live? Was he aware of the multitude he touched?

Are we any different? Do we muddle through life assuming no one cares, feeling desperate, but too afraid to say something?

Do you know how much you are loved? Do you have any idea how many would attend your funeral?

If you knew how much you are loved, could you press on?

It makes me think I need to tell people more. I need to express every appreciation no matter how small. I shouldn't let the moment pass, even if it's embarrassing, because what if that person thinks they don't matter?

Sigh. We've failed each other, don't you think? We save face instead of saving tender hearts. I want to do better. You too?

How can we show people how much they are loved?

Photo Credit: PurBlanca

1 comment:

Julie said...

Thanks for writing this, Tami.