Last Week, My Friend Died.
I used to be on a highly competitive swim team; I don't believe I have ever told you that. In my past experiences on the swim team, I came in contact with a girl named Rachel, who was a few years younger than I. She was nice but spoiled, well-meaning but annoying, as most rich, suburban, private school kids are. There were times at which I hated her. After all, meeting under the context of competition breeds some anger and resentment towards others.
But she died too young, killed by a drunk driver in a nasty car accident. I didn't make it to the honorary service that was held at her Christian private school, I missed the visitation, and I missed the funeral.
You see, we had been out of touch for a few years. But none of that matters, for death either reconciles people or it pushes them further away. Death causes me to forget the years we were not in contact; I still view her as my old middle school friend that pushed me to swim faster. And I still cried multiple times over the news of her death. Death reconciles people throughout time and space, for in it we all have a brief moment when we come to terms with our own mortality. For a moment, we are all alike. In this death, we are reconciled.
And so this is the best eulogy I could write for an upcoming high school senior who died too young. All I have left to say is that I do hope there is an afterlife, and I hope Rachel finds it to be well.
