I sat in the back row of the large Catholic Church and watched the young people and their families file in. Most heads were bowed but some were looking around with sad eyes. My heart was racing and I physically felt uncomfortable as I fought to not let tears escape my eyes. The open casket at the front of the church kept calling to me but I couldn’t look at it…not yet. Her family was escorted in—mom was crying and her little brother appeared fearful—no father. They sat next to an elderly woman in the front row that I hadn’t met before.

I have no idea what the priest said that day because as soon as he started talking my mind went to the images I knew of this amazing young woman. Her room was painted in purple. Let me rephrase that—her entire room was painted in purple—including the ceiling! The walls were lined with teenage posters and Polaroid pictures of her and her friends, trees, fish and her family. She took Polaroid pictures of everything! She had a huge fish tank on top of her dresser that held a multitude of fish that she cared for. Each time I entered the room I was taken aback by the amount of clothes that could be found on the floor. Read more…