Missing Your Best Friend

Mark Pincus has a moving post on his blog about dealing with the recent death of his best friend. I’ve posted before on how I’ve never dealt with searing grief, but that when I do it will be an opportunity to grow from the adversity, like Mark has done now. Excerpts:

This has forced me to grow up. I never aspired to become a man before. Always laughed that I could cheat life and stay a kid. Well life had a different plan. Guess digging a hole and poring your best friend’s ashes in it can have that effect.

There is a rainbow though. I’ve ben more present these past three weeks than the lifetime before. No more celphone in the car with friends. No more blackberry while I’m half listening.

Tom’s osho book of understanding talks about how we have to be 100 pct engaged on our path with no regrets. That it is more important to be 100 pct than on the *right* path.

There is no better path, only the one we’re on. I’ve spent a lot of my life struggling with decisions, tormented by the prospect of choosing the wrong path. No more. That is one of tom’s greatest gifts. Tom used to say ‘its all good’ and it is and ‘be here now’ and I will be.

2 Responses to Missing Your Best Friend

  1. Aidan says:

    Our sixth form experienced the death of a “much loved personality” in November 2005.

    The absolutely stunning silence in the entire of the sixth form building, and even in the mainschool building was shocking. I counted at least 97 bunches of flowers that had been left to the side of the hall, and many more were laid at the actual crash site.

    Death is a terrible thing, and it is something that affects everyone – even those who don’t actually know the victim directly such as myself.

    I know I never felt the need to cry or suchlike, but many others did and it was a sobering experience.

    Talking with family members it seems that they all knew -either directly or indirectly – at least one person from the age of around 15-20 who died while they were at school. It may be a morbid thought, but perhaps it is nature’s way of pushing us back to earth with a resounding thud.

  2. Jason says:

    I’ve had one incident in my life, regarding the unexpected death of a very young (under 10) family member in a car crash.

    I woke up and heard the sobs from downstairs, and upon finding out I was a wreck too, trying to desperately pull myself together to comfort my mother while working through the tears myself.

    Death is a both inevitable and jarring at once, with no rhyme or reason much of the time, though sometimes we all come to understand it. The passing of a grandparent in their early 80s is far more understandable than a drunk driver claiming the life of a six year old girl.

    Yet, those who died are not truly gone if we remember them. I will say that after the experience with death I became more religious, though I still rarely attend services. It was more about finding something higher to take faith in, and I don’t need any formal institution to do so.

    I can’t say much for deaths of those in their teens and twenties, though youth suicide is an issue that needs to be addressed.

    All in all, we have to live each day to our fullest, and trust that everything happens for a reason.

    Last but certainly not least, I do believe we’ll see those we’ve lost again.

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