Essay About Friends Death

The Death of a Friend Essay

802 Words4 Pages

The most prominent event that comes to mind is an event that everyone has had at least once in his or her lives. This event changed my life in many ways. It has shaped me, changed me, and caused me to have more respect for not just my life, but also the lives of my friends, family and the people I love and care for.

This event happened in the middle of my freshman year at high school. I was young and innocent and had no idea that my outlook on life would change that day. It was a Tuesday and the morning classes had gone on as they would everyday. I was in the band and I knew every body there and they all liked me and respected me

I heard the news of my friend’s death while a bunch of other friends and I where…show more content…

The first reason was because I had never experienced death before; this was the first time I had ever been told that someone that I knew and cared for had died. The second reason is because that I had also known Manuel since the seventh grade because we both played violin and we were both in orchestra together. When we arrived at the band room it broke my heart when I saw that other people were going through the same thing that I was. We all kind of stood around for a while waiting for the details of the car crash, holding each other and trying to comfort one another. At this point I was so shaken up that all I wanted to do was go home.

Finally our band director came in and proceeded to explain to us the details of his death. I found out that he was in a car with a lot of his family members and that he was ridding without a seatbelt, so when they were hit by the other car, he and a little baby that was also in the car had been thrown from the vehicle. But that wasn't’t even the worst part, it turns out to make matters worse is the fact that it was his birthday. I’m not sure but I think as I remember it that was the reason that the car was filled with so many family members. I was in total shock I knew Manuel, and I knew that he was never the type of person who would ride in a car without a seat belt. So to this very day before the car even is turned on I put on my seat belt,

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by Chloe Mondesir

She was more than a best friend. As an only child, she was the sibling I never had. I lost her on my third day of high school. I wasn't ready for her death but at 99 she moved on anyway. I found myself alone and against the world in the foreign place called high school. But in the years since, I reminisce on the unique influence of my great grandmother's presence in my life then and even now. Her death devastated me but the experience of pulling myself up from my grief prepares me for my future more than anything else.

Her name is Mildred and I can still see her in my present. Her smile, slowly opening up leading the way to the rest of her golden face; her plump, petite body relied on her wooden cane but her impact on our family for generations was larger than life. I would walk into a room: "Chloe darling," she'd say. No one ever made me feel so special just by saying my name.

We played every game together: dolls, and dominoes. We went many places together, from grandma's backyard to Atlantic City. Today most of my high school friends see me as an older, wiser soul. I need not wonder why. It grows out of the experience of having a close companion, or really a girlfriend, so many years and three generations apart from me. Mildred's influence touches the lives of so many people I interact with today. My friend, Brittany, came to me last year more stressed than ever. Her father died as she was juggling junior year academic pressure with comforting her mom who, after the death of her husband, didn't want to be left in the house alone. "Brittany darling, we'll work it out." The Mildred in me spoke loudly as I helped Brittany face her own grief while brainstorming hobbies and activities that would help her mother get beyond the pain.

Yet I was trying to grow beyond my own pain without Mildred. I felt like I was starting life over. In my sophomore year, I was still numb. Where was my passion? I was a dancer since three, yet I was not moving in the same way anymore. Always on honor roll since elementary school, I suddenly found myself at rock bottom upon receiving a letter for summer school registration to retake trigonometry. Clearly things decayed to their worst. "Chloe darling," I thought to myself. I refocused my life and decided to join the school's bereavement group and I became a new person. If summer school was an opportunity to get back on track with my work, I wanted to give myself the opportunity to address my grieving. I didn't want to hit rock bottom again. I know the roots of a great part of this wisdom flows from my best friend.

In the beginning of my junior year, I sat in a room full of strangers. "So everybody go around the room and introduce yourself and share who you've lost." I felt like everyone stared at me. Again, even amongst a group of people in similar circumstances I felt different and alone. I uttered something. I can't remember those nervous words to this day. I just wanted to get through the moment.

The first few sessions were slow. By mid year, I was comfortable and the question became "So how do you feel about your loss now?" Finally after some time, something seemed to change for me. "I feel like this has helped me. I no longer feel as burdened being able to just talk about her as before. I feel better about the loss now." I could see everyone was taken aback, as was I. In that moment, I suddenly saw the value of time and therapy. I knew then that the entire time I struggled to be comfortable in this group of strangers was necessary for me to reach this fluid stage in my life. I found my future, ambition, and passion in that room. I want to be a psychologist.

Shortly after the confidence boost set in, I found myself dancing again, expressing emotions that were sometimes just unexplainable. I tried out for the dance team. However, this dance team wasn't in my comfort zone. I grew up with powerful art forms like ethnic dance. Now I needed to master the refined technique of Ballet in weeks. It was overwhelming but I quickly realized the fight inside of me for so long. I would be the only push I would need to get through the audition. First in my beginning stance, and suddenly in my last, I knew I had done what I needed to make the team. Sure enough I found my name in the last spot of the new dance team's roster. This was the finish line of all my experiences thus far, from loss to struggle, and from struggle to success.

Every source of pain and resentment that I once felt, I learned to fuel for my growth indefinitely. I understand the importance of sharing with people, being honest with myself, and the significance of commitment in everything I do. I am better, stronger, more able and willing to grow. Now here I am, ready to share it all with you.

Chloe Mondesir began her freshman year at Spelman College in September. She is a 2012 graduate of St Francis Preparatory School in Queens.

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