"And I know you're looking down on me from Heaven, like so many friends we've lost along the way." ~ One Sweet Day (Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men)

I'm ready to say something now. She can fill you in on the details. My post is more of an observation.

Tonight was Sexy Eyes' memorial service (I hope she would have liked that nickname...everytime I hear that old Whigfield song I think of her and how she would act it out.). Tomorrow will be her funeral mass, one last chance for all of us to say goodbye.

"When you realize in a blink of an eye - you walking down a church aisle and that was meant for weddings and happiness but realizing those same church aisles are used to view a loved one for the last time..." ~ Missy Elliott (intro to Under Construction)

Those words could not have been more perfect for a night like tonight. For some of us, this was the first time we had all been together at that church since our High School Graduation Mass. This was where we celebrated the beginning of our adult lives...and now we were all gathered again to mourn the end of one of those lives.

Our old band director was there with one of our old sectional leaders, providing the musical accompaniment to the service. I realized that, although I shrugged off my membership to the group during those days, our bonds were solid. And I'm truly glad that I never quit the marching band, because those were experiences we shared that I will treasure forever. They even had a little tribute in her honor up at the front. There was a marching french horn (her instrument) and a cartoon cutout of a band member topped off by the actual hat of our old uniform. This complemented the sunflowers at the altar, the kanji characters, her beautiful portrait beaming at us.

Sunny's father presided at the service, which made it all the more personal and intimate. My heart aches for Sunny; I cannot imagine losing my best friend in such an abrupt fashion.

There were a lot of people there. While it is certainly not a popularity contest, it was great to see how many people cared for her, all the people she had touched.

My deepest sympathies go out to her family. They look like such a loving clan.

I don't recall the exact details...but a long time ago Daisy relayed to me this one experience her junior high class had with a guest speaker. If anyone else had this same speech delivered to them please fill in the blanks for me.

The speaker, I'm not sure what his message was that day, but he left the class with this thought to ponder: "In 10 (20?) years, half of you will not be here."

Like I said, I don't recall the details, and it just struck me recently when I remembered it all of a sudden. At the time she had first told that to me, I had assumed that perhaps he meant that we'd be living in different cities, different countries. But maybe she (and the speaker) meant that half of us would not even be here, on Earth, in that period of time.

What scares me is...I think they may be right. So many people around my age have gone ahead of us, and in ways we would never expect. Leukemia, falling through an elevator shaft, driving late at night, flying a plane...with the exception of my friend with leukemia, the rest of them have been taken from us so abruptly. And the one thing they all had in common was their enjoyment of life. They were happy.

That was the part that made me angry about Sexy Eyes' death. She was shortchanged. A life being enjoyed to its fullest potential should not be cut short. This is selfish and mean-spirited, but there are others out there who would have benefitted more from dying than she did. (Goodness, I know that did not come out right, but I cannot find the words that I am trying to say right now.)

And in another convoluted way of saying things, she had the easiest time compared to those of us she left behind. There is so much grief and heartache that her loved ones have yet to cope with. That has got to be the hardest part of all, being the ones remaining.

I think, in a perfect world, I would be the last to die out of my loved ones. I can't bear to think of my family mourning over me. I would rather be the one to suffer through the pain of losing them. Apparently, after telling Posie I had cancer she stayed awake that night, crying. (Her mother told me.) That was the last thing I wanted. Let me be the one to do all that. I would take away all my loved ones' tears and suffering if I could.