Write about a ceremony

I can't remember her name now. I'm sure I have it written somewhere. She was a key player in an enormous part of my life. And this is her funeral.

I had never been to a funeral in my life until I went to hers. She had been on of the first people I met when I moved to Florida. I didn't actually move to Florida. I was kicked out of my house and that's where I wound up.

Anyway, this beautiful 21 year old woman was smart, and funny and kind and spiritual. She was the kind of person I wanted to be. She was also the only member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, just like me. Her family was not pleased with her decision to join the Church. My family had no idea I had joined. I was scared to death to tell them. Her strength of character was inspirational.

She was driving down the road late one night when she was hit head on by a drunk driver. She died en route to the hospital. In an instant a careless person's act snuffed out the life of an incredible woman. She was recently engaged to be married and was very exicted. She had only one more semester of school and then she would graduate and she would get married. A fairly tale really. But now she was gone.

I don't remember who told me or any of that drama. I remember worrying about what to wear to the funeral. I didn't own anything black. But my roomate said that wearing black wasn't necessary. Mormon funerals were more about celebrating the eternal perspective of family and friends rather than the finality of life and relationships.

The chapel was crowded. Which shocked me. I knew a lot of people loved her, but I didn't think that many people knew her. I was sure that not that many people would have been to my funeral. But what really got me was her mother. Her mother was draped over the casket wailing and crying. It was horrible to watch. My heart just broke for her. She was so distraught. She had no concept that even though this beautiful life was gone, it was not gone forever. There was an eternity to spend together growing and laughing. There was so much than just this moment and my friends mother had no clue.

It struck me at that moment that should I die suddenly in a car crash, my parents would find out from other people that the most important thing to me was my recent membership in the Church. My parents, whom I loved and respected would find out cruicial information about me from strangers. I could not let that happen.

I went home and wrote them a letter and told them about my recent baptism into the Mormon faith. I told them what it meant to me and I told them that I wanted them to know that their righteous upbringing is what sent me searching and helped me recognize when I found my place. My letter was three pages long.

The funeral of a friend freed me from a lie. I have since lived me life in a way that makes other people question where I get my faith and my strength. Yes, a lot of it comes from my membership in my church. But the rest comes from my honest, loyal relationship with my parents.

Thanks, Terry (I remembered her name!), for all the things you taught me in life and through your death.