I have faced a lot of death so far in my lifetime. I don't suppose it's particularly unusual to face some death, but I've lost a lot of people in my age group of 20 over the past few years, and that seems unusual not only to me, but to others as well. Something in my soul tells me I'm cursed. I suppose it goes along with the five stages of mourning, one of which is blame of oneself. I have always had issues coping with death. I'm not sure why. I think it's just something in my personality that prevents me from letting the past go.
The subject of death arises from the emotions dug up by a memorial service on Friday (private) and Saturday (public) for a good friend of mine who fought in Iraq, was injured and died later during one of his many surgeries. Despite the fact that he was a very good friend of mine, I hadn't seen him for between five to six years before his death. A lot of it had to do with the long distance between our homes and the fact that he had been in Iraq for many of those years, but there were times I could have seen him and I didn't go. So even a year after his death, I questioned my validity as his friend.
The four hour drive to the services and the time I took for hiking before the Saturday service afforded me a lot of time to think about life, death, love, friendship, strength, courage, etc. Though I was scheduled to talk at both services, I had written absolutely nothing down, but gave the most sincerest of speeches (two) about my friend and about my philosophies on life and such then I could have possible given with an infinite amount of time to write it all down.
I will share these two speeches with you, as well as the one I gave at his funeral. Hopefully I will post them tomorrow morning. And hopefully I will have pictures from my hike by Friday.