On
Friday afternoon I get a call from one of my best friends, Jon. We went to high school together and grew up in the same hometown. My
roommate answers the phone and asks me, "Have you talked to Lisa lately?"
"No..."
A pause, and then my roommate says "Oh my God!" and looks at me.
My first thought was that something had happened to Lisa, another one of my good friends from high school.
"What happened?"
Her sister had committed suicide. Jon was going home to go the funeral with her, and wanted to know if I wanted to come to. I did, so we headed out for our hometown.
The funeral was today. It was awful. I haven't been to a funeral since my dad died. I thought that I wouldn't cry because I didn't know Lisa's sister, I'd met her once. I was there for moral support. But I heard other people cry and started crying too. Then it just reminded me of when my dad had his funeral. So I was bawling.
I hate funerals. Even if it's someone I don't know I end up crying because of the pain of the others around me.