So today I received news at school that a fellow class mate, Brad Morgan has passed away. It was an email read to the class that was to inform us of his passing. Initially I started to scan the room that had fell silent. I saw faces stricken with shock and tears. In all honesty, I had not really spoken to Brad since 9th grade other than sharing the experience of being the only two people in jazz class who could not read music. Yet, I could not help but realize that in some strange way I felt connected to him in that moment. The library was offered as a gathering place for friends to gather and grieve. I considering going to console classmates; but I stayed in my seat. I don't know why I didn't go. Maybe I felt it was not my place, or maybe because I wanted to see if I could reconnect with him in some abstract way.
As the day went on, I pondered on life and what the loss of one life means for the others connected to it. So this is what I have come up with. For the record, these are just my reflections, they are not an assertion of truth, malice, or a self-centered monologue. From the various Facebook posts, donation ideas, and simple talk of love I have begun to notice a change. In my classmates I am seeing a development of charter and a softening of the heart. I like to think that in some way Brad was apart of all our lives at some point. This interaction could be a chain of reactions or a simple conversation. His heart gave life to ideas, situations, and friendship. That is one of the beauties of human life. In the end it is not assessed on some rubric, it is not pinned to its discoveries, and it surely isn't watered down to nothing. Brad's death created love. I believe that there is some truth there.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is that life is precious. It is cherished by the ones who love you in the beginning, and cherished by the ones touched by your love in the end. I think, we all want to be great. We desire attention, stature, and power. But at the very soul of the human condition, at the very heart of this life is love. It is rooted tin the deepest of places and is stored in the hardest of hearts. Brad showed me today that we are remembered in love. But, we are not remembered in love because we want to be remembered for our own deeds. We love because someday we want that love to be resurfaced in our remembrance.
Thank you Brad,
Rest in piece
Song of Songs 8:6-7
"...for love is as strong as death,
it's jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like a blazing fire,
like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love;
rivers cannot sweep it away.
If one were to give
all the wealth of one's house for love,
it would be utterly scorned."
