Facebook is a funny thing for so many reasons, but one of these is how it often becomes the bearer of news, both good and bad. Today it gave me three updates I wasn’t expecting about people from my college.
I found out that someone two class years above me was one of the collaborators on Ye’s new album.
I learned that a group of people from my college were part of the groundbreaking cosmic discovery of the first-ever detection of gravitational waves.
And I was reminded that it’s the anniversary month of a former teammate’s death.
Has it really been two years already?
I remember doing the one hour walk home from work when my friend was still in a coma, trying to process it all, like it was yesterday. Her friend had posted a poem on her Facebook wall earlier that week, when things were really starting to not look good, and a few lines from it ran through my head on repeat during that walk: “Baby from what I have heard you do not sleep softly. And I would love to know that you are having sweet dreams.”
And: “I hope it is beautiful where you decide to go. I hope that a thousand angels sweep down and carry you to a place full of candied dreams and sweet mystery.“
Seeing her closest friends and family sharing their continued heartbreak and struggle on Facebook today is just as painful, two years later, because the heartache doesn’t leave, it just evolves.
We’re growing up without her. I was talking to one of her best friends about her recently and she made the point that our friend had always been a year older than her and now she had passed the age she was when she died.
I just don’t understand why some are currently achieving wonderful milestones in their careers while another college classmate, who was also so talented, is no longer with us. None of it makes sense. We all have highs and lows, but it just sometimes seems like there’s no rhyme or reason to why and when and to whom they come.