I’m not sure how to begin this letter other than I feel like I needed to say a few things.
This past Saturday at our 30th high school class reunion, I was talking to one of our classmates, when suddenly he said to me, “Do you recognize that picture over there?” I looked across the room to realize that he was talking about one of the photos seated on the memorabilia table. There were three photos of deceased classmates, and looking at yours from afar, we found ourselves confused until someone mentioned your name. As I walked up to the table, I realized it was in fact you and upon later research, that you had passed away unexpectedly over 4 years ago. I had no idea.
I instantly felt sad about learning this, but as the hours and days passed by, I realized that I felt more. And so I am writing this letter. Having met you early in grade school, I remember you as a shy, quiet person, as you went about your way with little fanfare. I never remember anything but kindness coming from you.
But having known you for almost fifteen years in school, seeing your picture on the table has really hit me in a particular way. Although I am sure we sat next to each other, and crossed paths thousands of times, I’m not sure I ever took the time to say much to you at all. As I got older, and became more focused on trying to connect myself with the popular group, and those I aligned with in different ways, I no doubt further distanced myself from opportunities to get to know you.
I even recall, if I am remembering correctly, that ten years ago, you and a friend of yours were sitting across the table at our 20th class reunion. While talking with my longtime friends, something inside of me said that I should at least go over and say hello. But again, I didn’t.
And now you are gone.
I am writing because seeing your picture on that table, the one from your obituary, has convicted me. I am writing first to say that I’m sorry. I have no idea if we would have ever been friends. But the fact that you and I not only shared 13 years of school, but also grew up in the same church, and I never took the time to hardly say hello makes me sad. I could blame it on the trappings of youthfulness, but this seems like a lame excuse. The only one I have to blame for your invisibility is me. And even worse, I believe in my heart that if I had taken the time to get to know you, others would have likely, too.
Maybe it’s because I’m raising eight kids myself, and I realize just how important it is to them to feel connected and valued by their friends. And I hope you found friendships that provided for this connection, too. But being around you as long as I was, I always sensed you didn’t feel accepted as you desired (although hopefully I’m wrong). And maybe this is why seeing your picture as I did, makes me feel all that much worse. Or maybe it’s because I wonder if I am still making the same mistake today.
Whatever it is, I just felt the need to reach out as I am, feeling powerless to do much else. Again, I just want to apologize for not taking the time to get to know you, and if I ever deliberately did anything to make you feel unwelcomed or even demeaned, I am so sorry. I also want you to know that I am praying for you and your family going forward. I can’t imagine how difficult your passing has been for them, although in reading a recent comment on your obituary, it seems you are greatly missed. In not knowing how or why you died, I pray that any loose ends that were left on earth may be bound in heaven. I pray that your soul finds it way home, if it hasn’t already. I hope that you rest in peace.
And finally, I hope that in some way, the impact of last seeing you as I did will create a positive groundswell within me, my family, and others who might read this to not make the same mistake that I did. Life’s really too short to miss out on each other. I just wish it hadn’t taken your picture on that table at our 30th class reunion to really remind me of this.
Sincerely,
Jim(my)
