Today, or technically yesterday, I went to the funeral for one of my three best friends ever. The parents wanted it to be somewhat upbeat, but it was impossible for it to actually be that way.

The other two best friends and I decided to make at long weekend getaway. My parents weren't thrilled but there's not much they could do to stop me. We drove through the wine country and picked up some supposedly good wine (the other two are 21) and then drove over to the coast. We're in my car but left the other two girls' cars in a central location since we'll all be heading to different destinations on Monday.

We had agreed that this would be a technology-free trip, but the other two drank enough that they're snoring up a storm. I could turn on YouTube full blast and they wouldn't wake up. I took a sip of wine to be social, but it tasted every bit as bad as I remembered, so I went back to my cherry slurpee.

I visited her a week ago yesterday (Saturday; it's now officially Sunday here). She was certainly sick, but not sick enough to be dead in two days. She was still laughing about things. I don't know what I might have said or done differently if I had known I would never see her alive again. I suppose i would have stayed longer, maybe even until the end.

I played my violin and a little piano at her funeral. My mom was supposed to be the primary musician, but it got really hard for her so a friend took over. My dad actually made it through singing Ave Maria (not exactly his forte, musically speaking) and a song that she liked by Green Day.

The funeral sucked. Her death sucks. I don't know how to be happy right now.

I’m really sorry to hear about you losing your close friend. There probably aren’t any words that can change how you feel right now. I just wanted to say ‘I heard you, and I am sorry’. Don’t worry about not knowing she would go so quickly. You couldn’t have known. I think I know the Green Day song you meant. It’s the song I want sung at my funeral too. Hugs.

Hey girl,

Just so you know, many more people have been traveling this journey with you from our screens than have spoken up. Probably because it's hard to know what to say. Words of comfort are difficult to find for someone you don't really know. Hugs usually do better, so consider yourself hugged.

Here in western culture we tend to hide from emotional pain. It's not like that everywhere. And if there are any words of wisdom I have received that I can pass along to you they would be these: feel your feelings, embrace the pain. Sit quietly and let it have you for a while.

Death can come so suddenly. Following your story has reminded me of the morning of 21 February. I was having a conversation with my MIL as she sat eating the breakfast she had made for herself. She asked me to gather her things and put them by the front door; her friend would be arriving soon and they would be going out for the day. When I returned to the kitchen she was gone, her lifeless body sinking down into the chair.

At 86 that was a much more timely death than what you're dealing with. But sudden.

It's easy to fall into the "if only I had known what was coming" mind game. Don't. Just let yourself be reminded to live each day fully, and love each one intensely. No regrets.

Hugs again, and a few tears, and a wierd little smile that neither one of us knows quite how to interpret.

JAR

I am so sorry for your loss. The death of a young person always feels bewildering -- like an outrage against nature. I hope that you can take comfort in the companionship of your family and other friends.

Alexisar,
I am so sorry for your loss. Thinking of you this morning and sharing tears of remembrance of missing ones we love.
Optional2

It takes a long time to adjust to the death of a close friend. It sounds as if your friend was alert and able to enjoy other people right to the end. That actually is a blessing. Recently someone I know died and they and their family had a much longer and grimmer death. I will spare you the details but the fact that you were able to share a laugh so close to her death is a great last visit.

If you want to know what you can do now, being kind to her family is one thing by keeping in touch with her family and talking about how wonderful she was. Don't make her a subject to avoid with her friends. People who are dying want to feel they will be remembered. Laughing with mutual friends about things you did together is the best memorial.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 03/15/2015 05:01PM by annieg.

I wish there were some magic words I could share that would make you feel better.

It often is very helpful to have someone listen to you. Of course, and an exmo community, we'ere here to "listen" to you, but I hope you have a friend that you can open up to. That person doesn't need to tell you anything--they just need to listen and care.

This experience will help you help others who will be struggling in the future.

I'm sorry--but it will get better.

Your whole family seems to love you and look out for you (certain lapses noted) and that is what is going to get you through this.

I seem to have lost more friends than I have left (I should make more friends) and I feel like each death took a part of me. So I don't have any great advice, only that Claire gave you what she had to give. I try to focus on what they would want for me.

Please take care. Hope you can find your way back to your cheerful self.

Dear Alexisar,

I am nearly three months out from where you are. Time is really the only thing that relieves part of the sting and shock and mind numbing grief.

She knew how much you loved her; please don't have any regrets. She knew, and wouldn't want you to regret small details.

If you are feeling down, try to think of inside silly jokes, or some of the best times you spent together. Celebrate her life; that is what you would want if you left first.

Live in part for her and do everything you both dreamed about: places to visit, love, accomplishments... The first few months are the toughest, but you will make it through, day by day, sometimes minute by minute.

(((Hugs)))

Of course, you're struggling. You are experiencing a difficult time, the loss of someone from your life.
It's OK to feel all of the emotions, write about it, use your music, anything to express yourself. That's all good.

Give yourself time to adjust to the changes
I lost my husband of over 50 years, Jan of 2013. The first few months into a year or so were the hardest to adjust. With time, I am adjusting to my "New Normal." There are days when I am very emotional. I know it will pass. Our minds do a good job, in my case anyhow, of letting the old ugly stuff go and remember the good stuff. I have many remembrances of him in the house from his military flag from his coffin to photos and flowers I keep in remembrance.
I enjoy my life with all of it's changes. I was very fortunate to have Home Hospice and the help from professionals so I was very prepared for his death in as many ways as possible.
It's contrite, I know, but give yourself permission to take the time you need to adjust.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 03/15/2015 02:17PM by SusieQ#1.

Grief counselling can be of assistance.

My friend Meredith saw me using my laptop, so she and Megan grabbed it and put it in the hotel safe. They stole my cell phone on Friday right after I got out of class and we left. I saw that I have a message from judge alex and I can't even respond because I don't have the phone. i'll get it back eventually. I found Uncle Scott's cheap computer that he uses for unimportant stuff that he accidentally left in my car. (Thanks, Scott!) Megan and Meredith are too wasted to notice now. I told them I'm typing a paper. We don't do all that many papers in med school, or at least not in this phase of it, but what do they know? They're just two drunk undergrads.

I understand the importance of avoiding drinking and driving. Our hotel is easy walking distance to the beach even for drunk people, and we've retired to the building for the night.

My parents wondered about our destination. I was born a stone's throw from the Pacific, and when anything major happens, it's like I have to be where I can see the Pacific in order to process things. My parents thought we just should have come home, where the Pacific is also right there, but we needed to get away, or at least I did. I think the other two would have agreed to go wherever I wanted to go.

I'm feeling guilty about taking this so personally because I've had a couple close calls myself but led a relatively tragedy-free life. My mom lost her own mother when she was fifteen, then lost twins that were too premature to survive (one for just a few minutes and the other for just two days) when she was 25. Judge Alex's mother lost a son to [I think] lymphoma of some sort when he was something like 18 and another to Type I diabetes when he was something like 29. That's more than one mother (or father) should have to bear. This was Claire's parents' second child lost as well. They lost a four-month old who was two years younger than Claire to meningitis. It doesn't seem fair. They're good people.

I was a bit ugly before the funeral. My mom was supposed to sing "Pie Jesu" from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Requiem, but she realized she wasn't up to it. The lead really needs to be sung by a soprano, so my dad or uncle couldn't fill in. I certainly couldn't. I was doing well to handle the violin part. Scott's sister, who was a voice major, volunteered to sing it, but someone needed to sing the "boy soprano" part that's usually just done by another soprano. Scott's sister's mother-in-law wanted to sing the part. I knew Claire never liked her and wouldn't want her singing at the funeral, so I went from one relative to another until I found one who would agree to sing the lower part. Finally Jared's [my on-again/off-again boyfriend) mother said she would do it. She has a beautiful and classically trained voice but just doesn't sing in public all that much anymore. Even though I was being a bit bitchy, Claire's mother thanked me afterward and agreed that Claire would not have wanted the other lady singing at her funeral.

I feel really guilty that I'm making this seem like it's about me when it really isn't. It's about a girl who left the world probably before the prime of her life and about her parents who have suffered more than their share already. Thank God they had four kids, and I really hope nothing happens to either of the remaining two until long after their parents are gone.

That WAS the Green Day song. Claire loved it and had it on her ringtone for any of her close friends who called. My Dad did it well. He worked his way through med school as a touring and recording lead guitarist during breaks and he has a decent voice. I did the violin parts because they were easy.

When I get back to the real world on Tuesday, I'll give it a bit of time, then evaluate to see if grief counseling is something that I should try. I'm still a bit afraid of the anatomy lab but I know I can't avoid it much longer.

We have a brief break between quarters in about two weeks. If I can just keep my head above water enough to avoid screwing up final exams for the quarter, I'll probably be OK.

Love to you, Alexis. You have experienced a tremendous loss.

Take your time.

I'm sorry about your loss. Death is probably the hardest thing we have to deal with. Cherish the friends and family you have. It's been my experience that only time can ease this type of pain. Just hang in there. It will get easier.

Can support the advise about care be taken with waiting to drive after alcohol use.

Hope this is okay to share; about one of the loved one I miss:
Lost my only brother (early 20's) when he rode with friends who had been drinking. They were in a single vehicle accident (not making a curve) and the vehicle flipped. He was the only one killed.