Another post, another death

I didn't want to go most weeks. My mind was always on something else, something self-centered. I usually watched the clock click down to the last minute, ready to resume my life or join some evening plans. It never occurred to me what my time meant to them or how my presence impacted their presence.

Last school year, I volunteered to teach religious education at my church. To this day, I'm not sure what encouraged me to put my name on the list, but I did. With shaken and skeptical beliefs, I probably wasn't the best for the job, but I was there. I taught seventh grade to 12 kids transitioning into teens. Those kids taught me to look at life in simple terms instead of strings of hypothesis and assumptions.

Although it seemed like a struggle to conjure excitement about teaching, it was always pleasant when I got there. Their smiles, unending hope and youthful curiosity calmed me from whatever troubles I encountered. One day, I went in seething from the treatment of another individual. Five minutes with those kids and life didn't seem so bad.

There was one in particular that always put on a smile on my face. He was big for his age; in fact, it was easy to mistake him for a high schooler. He loved music and was smart with all As in his classes. He didn't always like class discussion, but when he added an interjection, it was usually a snarky remark far above the humor of the other students. He was a good kid.

Yesterday, he took his own life. At age 14, he decided his journey should end here. My stomach tightens and throat swells as I type those words.

Death seems to follow me this month. First my uncle, then childhood pet and now him. All different relationships to me and different kinds of pain, but I cry for them all. Each time the news was delivered, I wasn't able to show emotion. I had to wait until I was home to let the tears pour. I wait till its convenient for me to mourn and then I mourn.

Maybe I'm mad at life right now. Maybe I'm just tired from all that's around me. Or maybe my hope in life is being tested so much that I can't lean on it anymore. Right now, I'm just angry. I'm angry that another life had to be taken in an unjust way.

Yet, my optimism is a bitch that won't go away. She calms me, cries with me and, like always, reminds me the grace that still exists.

On my home commute, I encountered a gorgeous yellow and pink sunset wrapping its arms around the rolling prairie. Single trees were the featured guest of the performance and I only removed my eyes for a second or two to check my status on the road. In that light, I saw that 14-year-old blonde boy. I saw my uncle. I saw hope.

The sun has set and hope is a bit harder to find in the dark, but tomorrow it will arise again. He is removed from the Earth, but his memory will always make me smile. He could always make me smile.