Dandelion

“If a healthy person dies at the age of twenty there are really only two things that could have killed them. A car crash or themselves…”

I think this as I look at my old high school friend’s group chat. Messages fly by repeating over and over the same shock that I feel. One of our friends is dead.

I delve into his Facebook account, searching for more information. There is a post that details when his funeral will be, but no announcement post for his passing. The phrase just keeps rattling around in my head.

“If a healthy person dies at the age of twenty, there are only two things that could be the cause. A car crash or a suicide…”

He wasn’t much of a driver... and he certainly wasn’t a reckless one.



It isn’t until three months later that I get a solid answer.

I am meeting up with another of my old high school friends. The conversation inevitably moves towards the topic of the recently deceased. Pushing past the guilt I feel for my morbid curiosity I ask-

“Do you know how he died?”

“It was a gun.” He doesn’t need to say any more. My death dichotomy has found its answer. And yet I feel myself needing to confirm-

“So he did… he did Commit.” I can barely say the phrase out loud, and certainly not in the busy café that we are currently sitting in. So I use the shortened form that has become a strange new death slang.

“Yeah. He shot himself in the head.” I am not ready to hear this but it seems my friend is desperate to share his experience. “I was the last one he messaged. Ten minutes before he killed himself he messaged me. I was at work.”

To keep myself calm in the café I turn my thoughts to something more organized.
- I think about gun control.



In the seventh grade we had a lesson on spoken word poetry. We watched a video by Shane Koyczan called "Instructions For a Bad Day". As I think back on my experiences with my friend I cannot help but hear parts of it in my mind. And so I leave you with this poem. On its own I know it is not enough but it did help me.

“Be the weed growing through the cracks in the cement,
beautiful – because it doesn’t know it’s not supposed to grow there.” (2:25)