death

My daughter's friend died yesterday.  It was a sad day.  Many students stood in the hallway and cried as I came to pick her up mid-day.  With wet eyes and a red face, she ran to hug me.  She is quiet, taking everything in.  She is uncertain.  She doesn't know what to think or feel.  Sadness comes in a flurry and as quickly departs again.  Later in the day, we went to the friend's home. His parents quickly embraced her, telling her how much she meant to them, how loved she was.  She brought a card and flowers, tucking in a picture of the two of them.  Today, she went to school, but was bothered by the way people were following her around.  Moment by moment, she is experiencing death-what it means to her, to others, how to talk about it, what to say, it's all so awkward.  Piece by piece falling into place, as her landscape of life and death broadens.  It's humbling and numbing and surreal and very real.  It makes me uncomfortable, but it is necessary. Death leaves an indelible mark.