undone. All we can do is learn from the experience, pray for the soul that was lost to us all and accept God's comfort."
The rest of his words were lost on me as I mulled over what he said. Would anyone blame themselves for my death? Everything suddenly seemed so complicated.
The family minster was replaced at the podium by Mitch's father who wound up breaking down when he discussed the chasm between him and his son that had moved in over the years. After he was led back to his seat, Mitch's grandfather took over the podium and talked about the summers Mitch would spend with him and his wife. Summers filled with fishing, working on old cars and learning to farm. He became choked up when he talked about summer nights on the porch, drinking lemonade from Mason jars and watching the fireflies together. The setting he described seemed to belong in a different era and endeared him. I wanted a summer filled with porch swings, lemonade and fireflies.
The minster took the podium back again once Mitch's grandfather had resumed his seat.
"Our last speaker today will be Mitch's best friend from grade school," he said, indicating someone in our section.
I swallowed my gasp of surprise as Dean stood up beside me and made his way to the podium. He stopped on his way to shake Mitch's dad's hand and hug his mom who had stood to greet him. My mind was reeling as I watched Dean embrace her. How had I not known? Why didn't he say anything? I recalled his words from yesterday when we were sitting under the tree he'd shown me about it being a tough week.
After a moment, Dean released Mitch's mom and stepped up to the microphone. He removed a folded up piece of paper from his wallet and slowly opened it, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Mitch and I became best friends in preschool," Dean said into the microphone, clearing his throat slightly. "Our friendship was forged over our passion for superheroes. The majority of our days were spent reenacting scenes from our favorite shows, much to the horror of those around us. We swore one day we'd grow up and become real-life heroes. We were inseparable all through grade school and knew everything about each other." Dean cleared his throat again and looked down.
I felt a strange hiccup-like sensation in my heart as I realized he was fighting to hold back his own tears.
After a moment, he continued. "When we entered junior high though, our superhero days were long forgotten and other activities took its place. Sports became my new passion, while Mitch drifted toward his own interests. Before we knew it, we were no longer hanging out. It's been years since I'd talked to Mitch, and somewhere along the way, I no longer knew his secrets. I wish I could rewind time. Like Pastor John stated, I'm also filled with what ifs. What if I had known? Would I have been able to change his mind? I'm filled with sadness, and I'm deeply sorry I didn't know that Mitch needed help," he finished with red eyes.
My eyes were swimming in unshed tears as I watched him leave the podium and embrace a couple who were sitting in the second row. He talked briefly with them, wiping his eyes before nodding his head toward me. I looked down, letting my hair hide my face from the scrutiny of the couple who had to be his parents. After a moment, he once again claimed the seat next to me. I kept my head down, confused about the events that had just transpired. I wanted to leave.
The rest of the service passed in a blur, and before I knew it they were lowering the casket into the ground. White daisies were passed around and the mourners lined up to pay their last respects by dropping their daisies on top of the casket. It seemed fitting that daisies were picked to send Mitch off. I'd always considered daisies a flower that represented the sun with its petals that stretched out much like sunbeams did. In my world that was filled with darkness and shadows, daisies represented the light I missed the most. I wonder if it had been the same for
The rest of his words were lost on me as I mulled over what he said. Would anyone blame themselves for my death? Everything suddenly seemed so complicated.
The family minster was replaced at the podium by Mitch's father who wound up breaking down when he discussed the chasm between him and his son that had moved in over the years. After he was led back to his seat, Mitch's grandfather took over the podium and talked about the summers Mitch would spend with him and his wife. Summers filled with fishing, working on old cars and learning to farm. He became choked up when he talked about summer nights on the porch, drinking lemonade from Mason jars and watching the fireflies together. The setting he described seemed to belong in a different era and endeared him. I wanted a summer filled with porch swings, lemonade and fireflies.
The minster took the podium back again once Mitch's grandfather had resumed his seat.
"Our last speaker today will be Mitch's best friend from grade school," he said, indicating someone in our section.
I swallowed my gasp of surprise as Dean stood up beside me and made his way to the podium. He stopped on his way to shake Mitch's dad's hand and hug his mom who had stood to greet him. My mind was reeling as I watched Dean embrace her. How had I not known? Why didn't he say anything? I recalled his words from yesterday when we were sitting under the tree he'd shown me about it being a tough week.
After a moment, Dean released Mitch's mom and stepped up to the microphone. He removed a folded up piece of paper from his wallet and slowly opened it, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Mitch and I became best friends in preschool," Dean said into the microphone, clearing his throat slightly. "Our friendship was forged over our passion for superheroes. The majority of our days were spent reenacting scenes from our favorite shows, much to the horror of those around us. We swore one day we'd grow up and become real-life heroes. We were inseparable all through grade school and knew everything about each other." Dean cleared his throat again and looked down.
I felt a strange hiccup-like sensation in my heart as I realized he was fighting to hold back his own tears.
After a moment, he continued. "When we entered junior high though, our superhero days were long forgotten and other activities took its place. Sports became my new passion, while Mitch drifted toward his own interests. Before we knew it, we were no longer hanging out. It's been years since I'd talked to Mitch, and somewhere along the way, I no longer knew his secrets. I wish I could rewind time. Like Pastor John stated, I'm also filled with what ifs. What if I had known? Would I have been able to change his mind? I'm filled with sadness, and I'm deeply sorry I didn't know that Mitch needed help," he finished with red eyes.
My eyes were swimming in unshed tears as I watched him leave the podium and embrace a couple who were sitting in the second row. He talked briefly with them, wiping his eyes before nodding his head toward me. I looked down, letting my hair hide my face from the scrutiny of the couple who had to be his parents. After a moment, he once again claimed the seat next to me. I kept my head down, confused about the events that had just transpired. I wanted to leave.
The rest of the service passed in a blur, and before I knew it they were lowering the casket into the ground. White daisies were passed around and the mourners lined up to pay their last respects by dropping their daisies on top of the casket. It seemed fitting that daisies were picked to send Mitch off. I'd always considered daisies a flower that represented the sun with its petals that stretched out much like sunbeams did. In my world that was filled with darkness and shadows, daisies represented the light I missed the most. I wonder if it had been the same for
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