Unlike most, I have been to a lot of funerals. I buried 2 grandparents by the time I was 6. (1 died before I was born). I am the best when it comes to tragedy. I put on my game face, plan if I need to, offer support and silently cry to myself. I am a pillar. I say all this, because I am planning to attend another wake today.
Tif was probably my best friend in college. She was the person that I could always turn to and vice versa. We had all the cliché things - fun road trips (involving a Days of Our Lives Fan Fest in Salem, IL), crazy parties (there was one in particular that my boyfriend, Matt, was not too thrilled with), random drinking nights (involving rain and mud) and quiet all night movie moments. She got married right out of school and had her first child within a year. Now we are 8 years after graduation, she has 3 kids and lives in the suburbs and I probably haven't seen her in 2 years. Which is ridiculous.
Today, I am going to her dad's funeral and it is sad. Sad that I am at the age that my friends' parents are dying, because I certainly don’t feel that old and neither does my mom (and dad). Sad that it took a funeral to put us back in touch with one another. It reminds me of Mary - another college friend that I had lost touch with over the years. She and I reconnected at our friend Leon's funeral and while his death still hurts my heart, finding Mary again was the light in all the sadness. Why is it that death reminds us what's truly important in life? Why do we wait that long?
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