It was March 2nd 2016. The alarm was set to ring at 6:00am, but I opened my eyes to be shocked that the clock read 7:10am. I only had enough time to eat a protein bar, throw some sweats on, grab my winter jacket and run out the door (yes, it was snowing, it's Wisconsin). I left the house at 7:40am, and only had 10 minutes to get to school but it was a 15 minute drive without snow - I was swarmed by sweat, tears and fear that I was going to miss my only opportunity to achieve a high score on the ACT and this was my one shot to get into a decent public university just a short drive from my hometown. I slammed the gear shifter for my old Ford pickup into Park. Then I begansliding on the ice as I sprinted to the classroom - to only walk in just in time for part one of the ACT. I remember the clock read 7:59am, and my stomach begin to turn. The pain was both sharp and numbing; like when you hold a hot blade to your skin long enough that your body decides to turn off the receptors - I knew something had happened to someone, but in my mind it was so unclear as to who that I felt lightheaded and wanted to pass out.

So after organizing my writing utensils and exchanging a few words with friends I went to the teacher. Conversing with him, he let me use my phone just for a minute to check and verify that I was not mis-feeling a major tragedy in my life. Unbeknownst to me, I check an early announcement from my summer camp job as a counselor and perused our staff Facebook page. I glanced for just one millisecond, paused, and dropped to my knees. The post written by my boss stated "On March 1st, Sean has passed away in a car accident. There will be a candle light service in the latter part of this week - I will keep you guys posted." I felt so weak to my stomach that I felt like I got tackled by Telvin Smith - the Linebacker from the Jacksonville Jaguars; I was beyond just knocked out. I lied their for a brief minute taking in what just happened - my best friend from my summer job has just died in a car accident at the age of 16, not a day that consisted of him going to school or getting his license just hours before the shortest day of his life, but rather, his birthday.

I was so far in shock that the ACT felt like a marathon. But soon enough it was over with, and I was happier than a 4 year old at a candy store. I mean, now I can go home, analyze what just went down, text my coworkers, and simply breathe. Unfortunately, I could not attend the candlelight service the next night as the funeral was on Saturday March 5th - thank the Lord (no pun intended) that this was my off weekend. Before I could even blink to examine the series of unfortunate events, it was Saturday and the clock struck 4 o'clock in the evening. It was time to head to the funeral (definitely not a place I wanted to spend my time while relatives visited from out of state). I arrived early. As I turned into the parking lot I drove around twice to find a spot, there was none. I had to park across the street to the nearest parking lot which was about as full - I got lucky with the last spot left. So, I was not the only one. I wasn't alone. As I began to hear the noise from outside quickly turn into the noise of silence as I walked into the church brought me to a point of awe and reflection. The visitation line was like the waiting line at an Apple store to win an opportunity to buy the newest of new iPhone's and Apple Products - but I wasn't here for an iPhone, I was here to support my best friend Sean for everything he's done for me, his community, scouting, school, friends & family, and even the youth at the camp he worked. As I walked down the endless line of people, I began to see a much larger abundance of all the staff I worked with at camp, and all attended. I remember reflecting for the hours I stood in line hoping my legs wouldn't give out. As we reflected, talked with his friends, discussed our memories with our friend Sean, just like the speed of light, speedily turned into the time to join arms with everyone else mourning. As I found a spot up front close to Sean, I remember rotating my head up high, down low, far left and far right to learn that the room was more than twice it's intended capacity and that there were people watching from live TV. It was a moment I will never forget.

It wasn't that my friend was simply a sophomore in high school or your average teen - but he was a leader, mentor, active community member, and avid influencer. What ever steps he took, he was always on a mission to continue rebuilding and repurposing the perspectives of his surrounding - ensuring that everyone who passed him, conversed with him or smiled at him, was stronger, happier, and more hopeful than before they met him. Sean was only 16 when he passed away, I was only 17 at the time - but his impact on me exemplified that everyone helps everyone and that our age difference did not affect his abilities to change my life.

The 16 years of his life flashed before his eyes quicker than we can count one finger on our own hand as the car veers off the icey road and head on into the tree bursting in flames killing him.

Flashing back to the day I met Sean, I was depressed, lonely, helpless, and powerless. I was always alone and never happy with life, not because I did not have friends but because I did not understand the complexity of life or even myself. Over the short year before his passing, he was dynamic, persistent, receptive and engaging so tenacious that he transformed my method of thinking from fixed to growing. Following suite after camp, I was high on life (in a good way), and I felt unstoppable. I couldn't believe that someone could change me so much in such a short time. For the 5 years that I was depressed and angry at the world, everything was alright and now that he helped open my eyes - the world is up for grabs and now I can achieve a lot more than I would ever imagine.

Just two years, later, as I reflect upon the tragic car accident, I continue to think about where he would be in life, what college he would attend, his choice of degree at college, or even how excited he'd be to graduate this year - but can't do any of those events that most of us are grateful to have experienced. He always told me to "Be Unstoppable,""Just keep swimming," and "Just smile." For all the trails he rode on his bike, places he's traveled, people he's met, achievements he reached at such a young age, triathlons he's completed and thing's he's done I am inspired by more than what he did for me alone, but all the endless hours he's dedicated elsewhere.

No matter the story you decide to write in your own life, the place you decide to stop the music, or thoughts you have - life is nature's greatest masterpiece. It's beautiful, so use the right paint, make your own artwork and be happy. The paint will dry out, and we will never know when, but use it wisely.

My advice for you:

1. Lean on friends and family - Take a moment to share memories about the deceased. Focus on the moments of positivity, achievements, comical acts, and advice they had for you. Over summer of 2016, just a few months after my best friend's funeral, we invited Sean's family, friends, community and anyone he impacted to travel to camp and come together to reflect on all the countless actions he did, a good laugh always helps - trust me, the person who is deceased want's you to be happy.
2. Give yourself time - The process of grief, in reality, takes on average anywhere from 18 months to 5 years to fully process. So do not feel forced to grieve with a deadline.
3. Honor Your Grief with a Ritual - Do something that allows you to walk away from your stress in your life, and take a step back to reflect. Go to your favorite restaurant, park, light a candle, visit their grave, take a walk, etc. Rituals will help you control the ups and downs throughout the process and empower you to focus.
4. Set Goals - In isolation from the responsibilities, checklists, to-do's and tasks, take a good amount of your time envisioning a new lifestyle that you want to be living, whether it's in the next few months, years or longer. Write down goals for short-term (day to day, week to week, and monthly) and long-term (extending out a year or more). I found this quote very helpful in visualizing a much more happier future: "Setting goals is the first step in turning the invisible into the visible." - Tony Robbins.
5. Allow yourself to smile and laugh
6. Consult professional help when your feelings become uncontrollable.
7. Forgive yourself
8. Make dinner with your friend
9. Make a memorial fund
10. Create an album of pictures in remembrance
11. Read a book on grief and healing
12. Turn out to your faith
13. Join a support group online or offline
14. Call a friend every day you arrive home and vent your feelings to them
15. Get rest.
16. Write.
17. Drink a lot of water.
18. Exercise.
19. Breathe.
20. Eat regularly.
21. End each day thanking someone or something about your blessings
22. If leaving an empty seat is too emotional at the table, feel welcome to invite someone in the community to occupy that seat (whom does not family)
23. Play the music your deceased friend, relative or coworker always listened to.
24. Be open to change.
25. Do not emerge yourself repeatedly in the tragic story of the deceased and how they passed away simply to analyze and attempt to understand.