Death and Reflection

Sometimes when we have lost our perspective events occur that help us find it again. My mother contacted me to tell me that a school friend of my brother has died. Darcy was 32.

We had a shared childhood that I don't believe exists anymore. We were a roving pack of children who moved freely and without thought of danger. Our pack incorporated all age ranges and genders and it seems now that the socialization processes that occurred within that group were an anthropologist's dream. We learned about fairness, protecting those who needed protecting, and rebuking those whom we needed protection from.

Our lives were linked through school, scouting, and sports. I am sure when I go home at Christmas that I could look through any one of our photo albums from that era and see pictures of Darcy and his twin brother Duane at birthdays or in Halloween costumes. Having lost my older brother to suicide about nine years ago, I believe I understand their loss. 32 is far too young to say goodbye and at future family events there will always be a hole where Darcy was.
In time, the feeling of loss will decrease but there is no way to fill the next 32 years with new memories of Darcy. In the end the Darcy I will remember is a slight kid who never seemed to lack energy and had the brightest smile, as if he had just discovered the most amazing secret.