WARNING: If you are looking to read a happy-go-lucky, entertaining or light-hearted post, this isn't it. If you're looking for something that flows well and makes sense, this isn't it either. I'm not saying it's going to be depressing (because at this point I don't even know all I'm going to say) but rather a place to put all the random and scattered feelings and thoughts that have been reeling through my head these past couple of days....here goes
At 1pm today, we all gathered at St. James to say goodbye to Robbie...it was a hell of a lot tougher than I was expecting it to be. Not only because he was only 21 and just an all-around great guy, but because of the things that were said and the emotional outbursts that I saw. Of course, funerals are places where emotional episodes are more than expected and not judged but it wasn't the emotion, it was who it was coming from. Before I even say this, I know it's a prehistoric way of thinking, but it's what I've known until these last few years: it KILLS me when males cry...kills me, I tell you. It's partially because I have the "damsel in distress" mentality that most females experience when something has gone wrong and also because I'm a protector and I feel as if guys are so much harder to protect; especially if they've already been pushed to that emotional breaking point (because we all know guys have this deranged ideal that crying isn't ok). My personal experience is that guys get angry and scream and break things and cuss and drink until it all becomes too much and all they can do is sleep...it's how they get through it and I completely understand but that behavior hurts me more than anything else because I can't do anything to make them feel better...theyre hard headed. Gah I just want to give them all hugs and just hold them till it all goes away...going to get emotional again just thinking about it...change of topic.
Well, not really. Today was my first funeral experience in which people actually spoke about the deceased...and good god I lost it. Robbie's teachers had some absolutely fantastic things to say about him which made me smile but they also impacted me more than the typical funeral speech given by the priest. They told stories about him and his half smile, his courage, protective nature, friendly capacity and being faster than he looks...hahaha...but Ms. Burke was the deal breaker. First, she addressed the Ryans; she talked about how hard it is to bury a child (especially two days after a mother/grandmother) and how short Robbie's life was but told us not to be upset because at least he was here. She (or maybe the Priest, to be quite honest I couldn't even see straight so thinking straight wasn't possible) recited a poem about losing children that will now forever make me sob (i'll post it at the end of this) but her speech aimed at fellow Cadets, and friends in general, was what got me thinking. She said something along the lines of: "on your ring day, I told you to look around; the friends standing around would be the ones that will walk down the aisle with you, the ones that will be your children's Godparents and the ones that will be there when it was time to bury a parent. But I left something out. I didn't leave it out to be deceiving but simply because the thought was too horific to put into words: those people will be the ones that will be there when it comes time to bury one of your own." It was a harsh reminder that Robbie was too young and that death comes at every age. It was a reminder that we need to take a look around more often and really focus on friends.
If you've read this blog before, you know that I feel as if I've lost touch with many people that were far too important to lose touch with. I have vowed to change that and thank you, Robbie, for reminding me to actually do so. Back in highschool, before I even had the pleasure of meeting about 90% of the people I currently associate with, I had one of the greatest groups of friends anyone could ask for. I know, you think your friends are great and fun but you have no idea what a friend is until you face the tragedy we did. Don't get me wrong, we all have reasons for having the friends we do but a lot can be said for the kids that will stick around through the tough stuff. And by tough stuff, I don't mean petty fights, I mean the deaths of loved ones. Sure, everyone will feel sorry for you and maybe feel close enough to call or send a "sorry" text; but I want you to look around and ask yourself how many of those people will just sit with you? How many of your friends will come and cry, scream, console and remember with you? How many of those kids do you share a close enough bond with to even want to talk about things such as death and depression? When you narrow it down, take the group that will, call them and tell them you love them.
As I've said, I've regrettably lost touch with many of my friends in that specific grouping but I am relieved for two reasons: 1) With the death of Robbie, I re-realized that those friends are still the ones that call and make sure I'm ok and vice-versa. And though we don't get to see each other enough, we share a bond and a mentality that will last forever. We will always pick up the phone or go console when we need to. We don't need to ask, we know when we're needed. 2) I have recently, again, picked an exquisite group of friends. Some, I have known for years. Some were known, lost and recently rediscovered while others are completely new experiences. Either way, we now share that same bond. The bond in which we all understand each others pain, need for silence, need for laughter and need for that one simple gesture to show that we care. We are comfortable enough to cry and delve deep into our regrets from the past (there are specific instances for all the examples but I've decided to leave people and the emotional turmoil out of this). I'm automatically at ease with them. I know we can talk about whatever, whenever and we're all on the same page. I've literally been hanging out with some of these kids for no more than a few months and every single one accompanied our goodbye hug with an "I love you." I'm so blessed and it's times like these that remind me.
Ugh, alright, enough. It's way past my bedtime and today was far too exhausting to even describe but I'm going to leave you with this sappy comment and poem: please please please stop and just take a moment to tell your friends and family you love them. I know people say that all the time but not everyone gets constant reminders like this. I'm going to go to school tomorrow and pass the spot in which I talked to Robbie everyday just wishing I could press rewind, stop him one day just to say I love you instead of the usual "lets catch up sometime." So, please, don't wait. Life doesn't come with a rewind button.
The Poem:
"I'll lend you for a little time a child of mine," He said.
For you to love while he lives
And mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years
Or twenty-two or three,
But will you, till I call him back,
Take care or him for Me?
He'll bring his smiles to gladden you,
And should this stay be brief
You'll have his lovely memories as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth return,
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.
I've looked this world over
In search for teachers true,
And from the throngs that crowd Life's lanes,
I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love,
Nor count the labor vain,
Nor hate Me when I come to call to
Take him back again?"
I fancied that I heard then say,
"Dear Lord, Thy will be done,
For all the joy Thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for him
Much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
And try to understand."
Nessie
