A Sparkling Diamond. Gone In A Flash

I already don't want to do this. Yesterday was a horrific day. As I started dressing, I picked up my black trousers and then my plain shirt. As I grabbed my pair of black dress shoes and started slipping my feet into them, I grimly reminded my wife "The last three or four times I've worn these exact same clothes and shoes, I've attended a funeral." This time would be no different. I was headed to a funeral. But there was a difference. This was a funeral for an eleven year old girl; just a baby. Out of respect for the family, I have decided not to disclose any names. The story gets more tragic. Read on.

As I arrived at the Funeral Home, I realized that the service was already in procession. We were a bit late for the service as my wife was working that morning and we had to drive across town. I'm a very punctual person. I don't like being late. It's a mark of disrespect for whoever you are meeting.

I waited outside the chapel for a few moments before I was quietly ushered in and asked to take a seat on the right side way up front. I didn't want to be in the front. At lest I was seated in the aisle if I should feel the urge to leave. As I took my seat next to my wife I saw the tiny open coffin and try as hard as I might, I could not help but look at the girl sleeping peacefully inside. She was dark, had black curly hair, some light makeup and a creamy dress. An adult, possibly a chaplain, preacher or faculty member of the family's church was speaking his comforting thoughts about the girl. I wasn't paying attention to what was said because I was focused on the girl. I tried to live her life through my eyes. I saw her as a baby, growing up, playing with other girls, laughing, playing with dogs, looking into her mother's eyes. Everything. I looked away from her, but caught myself captivated in a trance. I dared not look at her, yet I couldn't keep my eyes away. This was going to mess with my mind. I knew it.

Shortly thereafter, a girl classmate came to the microphone and shared her very touching memories of her departed friend. I started listening. She was already in tears and brought everyone who had come to pay their respects to tears as she shared her personal stories and first impressions of their meeting. A few more girls came forth and shared their heartfelt moments. One of them had lost her father and her departed friend had consoled her in her time of grief. Another came forward who had recently lost her mother and spoke of how her friend was there for her. Everyone who spoke made it clear that the girl we were remembering was truly a blessing in their lives; always smiling and laughing and playing with them. Another family member mentioned that girl had written an autobiography about herself, in which she mentioned all her accolades, and her dreams of becoming a pediatrician when she grew up. I looked at my wife and she looked back at me. This has all been very devastating to my wife and I was there to support her. I held her hand tightly.

As the service came to a conclusion, the mourners were asked to offer their personal condolences to the parents if they wished in a row by row orderly pattern starting from the rear as they exited the chapel. The mother of the child saw my wife and waved at her with her heart breaking so as to thank her for attending. It was going to be a long wait, but finally our turn arrived. So far the mother had held her composure well as she was consoled by friends and family. I prepared my wife to be prepared for a breakdown. As my wife approached the mother both broke down in tears and hugged each other. The mother reminded my wife that she had done everything for her dearest daughter. My wife told the mother not to blame herself for the loss.

This little jewel of a child, just eleven years old, had committed suicide. Eleven year-old committing suicide? Can you even grasp that? I cannot. What demons were hiding inside this child that caused her to make such a disastrous terminal decision? Did she not think of  what would happen to her mother and father? She was old enough to know. She was loved, she wasn't bullied in school, she had lots of friends, loving mother and father and a beautiful home. Yet something went wrong. How could anyone have missed the signs? How? Nobody was to blame. There is no explanation that will suffice. I let my wife have her turn and as my wife stepped aside I embraced the mother tightly and told her how sorry I was for her loss. I couldn't even imagine the pain in her heart. I told her my daughter went to college and we are miserable without her, so I simply couldn't fathom her situation. I asked her to give me some of her pain. The mother just sank into my arms and started sobbing loudly as I held her tightly and rubbed her head. I was a complete stranger to her. I had never met her before. My wife joined us as I held them both tightly and we all cried together. We held each other for an eternity, longer than everyone else before us. Very unwillingly, we broke out of the group embrace, and I managed to crack a tiny smile. I asked the mother to contact us if she needed anything and walked out of the funeral home totally devastated. I had been crushed by a tsunami. I don't think I'll ever forget April 06, 2019. RIP little girl.

Friends, I stopped blogging a long time ago, but I was desperately compelled to document my thoughts. This is the second funeral I have attended consecutively where two souls were lost to suicide and depression. They lived lives surrounded by people, yet they were all alone. Please, it is never too early and never too late to talk to your young children, grownup  children and even adult family members about depression, suicide and hurtful thoughts, just as you've spoken about drugs, alcohol, smoking and sex. The depression threat is infinitely more powerful that all those vices combined. Medicine, professionals and treatment can and will help, but believe me, nothing is going to matter more than a helping hand that understands, because professionals and medicine have no vested interest in you. Family and friends who have invested in a person are all that matter. All the money in the world and fans made no difference to Robin Williams. He was encapsulated by millions of people and yet he was all alone. Be honest with yourself. If you need help with even the most mundane of needs, please ask for help. Don't suffer in silence. A smile and a hug to a complete stranger goes a long, long way. Trust me. I live in a cocoon myself. Therefore, I start conversations with total strangers in grocery stores, gas stations and even stop lights. I believe I have that special gift communicating with people and I share it at every opportunity. Sometimes. I maybe the only one someone has spoken to in a while. Like this one friend I have. I am all my friend has and my friend is all I have. You know who you are. Hug your loved ones tight, be safe and keep on enjoying life. Take care and thanks for being my friend. :)