Of all of the intricacies of life, death is perhaps the most perplexing of all. Humans have studied death, we’ve feared it, we mourn and grieve when those we love die. But never throughout the span of civilizations and ideologies have humans been really able to come to a global agreement on the universal question: What happens after we die? The beauty in that question is not in the answer but more in how you ask it; how you live your life.
As you read in a special story reported by The State Press, undergraduate student and beloved Sun Devil Daniel Kemp died as a result of a suicide in December of last year. His death was felt by students and administrators — including Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communications Dean Christopher Callahan — as the loss of a wonderful life, just on the cusp of a true beginning.
And recently, the painful and misunderstood mix of emotions that lead to suicide claimed the life of another student. Undergraduate Alex Haler, who was studying journalism died at the young age of 22 — the threshold of adulthood — on March 24, 2012.
A lot of times we get swept away in the commotion of school, internships and careers and we think everybody around us is following the same path. We think “We’ll see them tomorrow,” or “We’ll get together when we’re less busy.” When those days never come around it’s hard to cope with knowing you missed an opportunity to tell someone they’re great and they matter, to tell them life is only hard for the moment.
When death comes at such a young age, it is perhaps even more confusing and even more of a shock to the living. Loved ones, friends and family members of the deceased are left with questions, hypothetical “what ifs” and a future that exists only in memories that will never happen. When a life is cut short, we feel like we’re owed one. We find comfort in attributing death of the young to some greater scheme of things — some universal, balanced plan where everyone has a set time and date that is uniquely theirs. We all have a shelf life. We’ll all expire eventually. But, this time is never convenient, it’s never when we think it is and it’s never now or on our own terms. We continue to hurt, grieve and ask why when it does come. Moving on is never what we want to do; it is simply inevitable and frankly necessary to truly honor the lives of those passed.
And sometimes that’s hard.
It is so important to surround yourself with a solid foundation of supportive friends and family. Sometimes the bright side is far away or simply a blink of light in the distance — but it’s there, and the only way to reach it is to live each day not like your last, but in a celebration of life itself. Sometimes finding the bright side is as simple as looking straight into the darkness and refusing to acknowledge its existence.
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