I didn't know this young man, he was loved and a friend to many. I did, however, bear witness to his death.
Something changes inside you when you are with a person during their final minutes. It is especially difficult when those final moments took place outside your front door. You can't avoid the scene, HELLO!, you live there. You see the memorial go up and see the mourners come and go. You see when fresh flowers are placed, new crosses go up and when both the village and fire department try to clean the spot on the same day. You weep uncontrollably over a young person you never knew, you snap at those you love and you retreat into the back of your house so you don't catch yourself looking over at the site 50+ times a day. You don't sleep, or if you do, you don't sleep without nightmares. You wake up and instinctively look out the window remembering how long the emergency workers remained outside that night.
You think of his family...his parents and his siblings. How are they coping? Would it comfort them to hear from you? You think of the young man who was with him that night...does he have someone to talk to about what he witnessed? Is he getting the support he needs? You think about the other first responders...how are they holding up? Better than you? They have chosen to avoid the scene (lucky!) but are still having issues all the same.
You also realize that the changes within in you are permanent. You see how many people care, who is there through thick and thin as they reach out. You take an inward look at the life you've been living and realize that this was a wake-up call. Introspection is a good thing, even when forced upon you. You begin to think twice about what you say, how you act and the impact your words and actions can have on those around you. You realize what you appreciate in those friends who keep coming back and want to emulate that.
You think about this grief and sadness and you realize that, you can still have happy thoughts amidst these feelings. I am glad for the days I find joy. I treasure my walks (and I've walked MILES since August 22), I treasure my family and am thankful for my therapy cat! I treasure those good friends who've made an effort and came to me not knowing what they could do or if they could help. I treasure a therapist, recommended by a friend, who has proven to be a God-send. I am healing, slowly but surely.
So, I am missing B these days. I wish he were closer, that I could see him more. But then I realize, that I am whining. I can SEE him (granted not always when I want) but he can come home/I can go there. I can pick up the phone and hear his voice. He is happy and alive and for that I am forever grateful.
Logan and his family will remain always in my prayers and I hope that they remain in yours as well. Our little village has seen much death these past few weeks so keep our fire and police department in them as well. I can only imagine how bearing witness to so much has affected them.
