Losing someone at a young age, unexpectedly, is like getting shot in a non vital place and then being expected to recover incredibly quickly. It comes out of nowhere, hurts like nothing you've ever experienced, and doesn't heal without a mark. I recently experienced the loss of a dear friend, a beautiful, vibrant soul, gone far too soon. Experiencing this loss through the eyes of someone just two years younger, watching other friends and family grieve, the massive impact that his life had on so many in just the 21 years he had... it has forever changed me.
Some flames burn slow and linger, some are fireballs that are almost too bright to look at and then gone before you've had a moment to admire it's beauty, leaving glowing embers to remember them by. People are that way too. Tyler was the latter. He did everything to the absolute fullest, a firework of passion in everything he was. People are the way they are and nothing would have changed this. The slow warming burn of a fireplace in winter doesn't apologize for what it is anymore than a brilliant firework does. People simply are what they are.
The aftermath of losing someone you love so unexpectedly, so young, is catastrophic. This is a loss that you cannot possibly prepare for. One you cannot expect. It just seems fundamentally wrong, to have someone here and then gone with no natural reason, the only word to describe the feeling is wrong. The first thing is shock, then panic, disbelief, numbness, and eventually just a sense that everything is wrong. In my experience, the best thing to do was reach out to other mutual family and friends. Everyone is going to be dealing with grief in their own way, but handling it together is better.
Nobody wants to acknowledge that life can be so easily taken away. This is a difficult dose of reality to swallow. I cannot stress enough that the best way to get through this is with others. Tyler was one of the most social butterflies i have ever had the pleasure to meet. He was bright and joyful no matter what, and everyone knew it. Going to his memorial was difficult, but it was an opportunity to get back in contact with old friends and share memories. It was a true moment of healing, where his spirit was truly strongest. It's often been said, "funerals aren't for the dead, they're for the living," and I've found this to be true. The music and the flowers and the decorations aren't for Tyler, not really. It's for us, so that we can feel more at peace, more comforted. Surrounded by the things that remind us of our loved ones. Surrounded by the people who loved them. We all knew Tyler was where he was always meant to be. He was happy, and any mourning that was done wasn't for him, it was for us.
Going forward I've learned that just because a life is short that doesn't diminish it's value. Maybe Tyler's life was shorter than myself, and so many others wanted. But he was a beautiful, brilliant firework, and nothing any of us may have done could have or should have changed who he was. I feel blessed to have witnessed and been a part of his brightness, no matter how brief. The pain subsides, and with time, grieving, and support, I'm left with a burning ember. A warm glow of memories, years of friendship and mutual respect. Knowledge that Tyler is at peace, and he would want me to be too. Bonds of friendship that can never be broken. That ember won't stop burning, kept alive by the love that never truly dies.
To anyone struggling with losing someone too young, or just losing anyone at all, reach out to the people you care about. Let them know you care. Try to live with the knowledge that every breath is a gift. Grieving and mourning is important, don't let anyone rush you through that process, but also don't allow yourself to get stuck in it for too long. This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to go through. Find your hope. Find your ember. Hold on tight.
