Home is supposed to be that safe and happy place. But, is this place really happy anymore? Everywhere you turn is a constant reminder of a young life lost. I may not have known each and every person, but they all in some way, have touched my heart.
Loss is hard to cope with. And in our town, it seems as though the grief never ends. It is a constant cycle of hurt that has numbed many hearts in the young community. But, with the terrible loss of all these kids, it always came down to one thing…
“That person lived a happy life.”
From an outsider’s point of view, you would expect a plethora of tears and extreme heartache throughout the community. But, after the initial grief had passed, did their loved ones just wallow in their sorrow? No. They decided to take action. Numerous walks/runs, highway cleanups and even scholarship funds have been created to honor the memory of these teens. When disaster strikes, our community knows how to handle. They see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Even if you didn’t know the person, you were constantly there supporting others with hugs, thoughtful words or even meals. I lost my close friend, my teammate, my classmate.
The shock was unbearable. I remember those words my friend texted me, “Sarah, she’s gone.” I read that text message over and over again in disbelief. All of a sudden, I felt this immense wave of grief pour over me. I couldn’t even come up with thoughts or words. At school the next day, I walked into my first class and there were counselors everywhere. But most importantly, there was an empty desk. I couldn’t bear to even look at this piece of wood and metal. It was all too much. I had several people come up to me the next few days asking how I was doing. I never realized how close I had been with her until she was actually gone. I was devastated.
A few months prior, life was perfect. We were at her house swimming and hanging out on the fourth of July. How could something so terrible happen in just a few months?
The next few weeks just became a blur. From what I can remember at least.
At the funeral, bringing forward the gifts, I turned around and her mother grasped my hand and held it close to her and said, “Thank you.” I knew at that time what I needed to do. I need to show everyone the light that she brought into this world. So I began to turn from the darkness that was hovering over me into the greatness that she was.
Don’t dwell on the negative. Live as they would want you to live. When I heard someone being sad and saying, “I really miss her!” I would respond, “Remember the time she tweeted the picture of her coming home and her mom was vacuuming the cat?”
So let's remember the good times and the times that describe her. Like her infamous tweets.
Or all the adventures in her car, Larry.
Or that she would go anywhere, wearing anything...
So Avery, I hope that everyone can learn to live a life as fullfilling as you. So eat Chipotle, laugh until it hurts, and make sure your mom doesn't vaccum the cat.
In Loving Memory of Lauren Oliver, Kathleen Oliver, Chris Lenzen, Noah Cook, Avery Cantor, Sean Glanvill, Natalie Timm, Andrew Kiethley, Rachel Bick, and all the other young lives lost.
