It was a brisk Monday morning. I remember it feeling unseasonably cool as I sank into my desk, awaiting the morning anouncements. The combination of the musty classroom and the fresh pine scent of the desk reminded me that the weekend had passed and another week of the third grade was about to commence. The students were scurrying about, hustling to get their desk in order before the bell rang and that's when I noticed James had not made it in yet.

James was my best friend - my only friend, actually. He was a lively young 8 year old boy - plump, with freckles and red hair. He sat next to me in class, but that day James wasn't there. I always felt more comfortable when my compadre was next to me, so naturally I felt uneasy as the bell rang and the rest of the students settled in.

Mrs. Adtkinson walked somberly into the room which led the students to believe that she was not in a particularly good mood, indicating that a long day was in store for us. As she walked slowly to the front of the class room she began to explain that she had an announcement for the class before the school announcements were broadcast on the intercom. Her face seemed to contort as she choked out the news.

Over the weekend James had been involved in a terrible accident. He was on his bicycle and apparently crossed oncoming traffic. A truck had struck James in the side killing him instantly.

The room fell dead silent and I felt a shadow cross my heart. The classroom became a blur and I don't recall hearing anything else after that dreadful announcement. Suddenly I felt as if I were in some kind of story or dream. This couldn't be real. Eight year old boys don't die - especially best friends. He couldn't do this to me - God can't do this to me. The rest of the school day is a simple blank spot in my memory. My mother picked me up from school and I sat quietly in the Mustang as she drove me home. It was an awkward silence and I know my mother could sense it. As the car pulled into the drive way, trying to break the silence my mother asked me how my day was. I turned to her and said flatly "James is dead" and I walked into the house.

As adults we learn to come to terms with our own mortality. We eventually realize, all too well, that our time here in this life is very limited and that as the billions of souls before us, we will cross that final threshhold. Most of us, prior to facing that final exit, are forced to say our farewells to loved ones who beat us there. Perhaps, aside from our instinctive fear of our own mortality, this is why, as a society, we cling to the hope of an afterlife.

The thoughts of seeing the apparition of a dearly departed are romaticized in poems, songs, stories, and movies, such as the 1990 blockbuster "Ghost". And its for this reason we seem to constantly search for answers as to where we go when we reach that final destination and whether we will, once again be reunited with our beloved, friends, and family once more.

The following lyrics are dedicated to everyone out there who has lost a loved one, hoping that you will once again be reunited.

Dont' Fear The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult

On a winter's night, stars are cold and bright in the sky,
The slumber of the earth is pure and deep
From a distant wood, drifts the echo of a beast
The old man stirs and wakens in the night
He stands before his window gazing at the grave
Forgotten dreams are flashing through his weary mind
And though his life is empty, he pretends that she's still there

With hunger in his soul, he yearns for life and love gone by,
With memories his one and only joy
All he has to give, he would give to bring back the life,
And raise the one who lies beneath the snow
He lights a lamp and looks at pictures of the past
The faces of their youth still glow with new-found love,
But the picture's faded, and time has stolen youth away

With a spoken word that he thought he heard from her lips,
He felt another presence in the room,
He was filled with fear but filled with joy he arose
And turned to face the image that he knew
She stood before him and her hand reached out for his
A peaceful light shone in her eyes
She said she'd come to soothe him, and someday they'd be as one

She began to fade and her image disappeared,
So he was left alone to face the night,
Never in his life, had he been so held in awe,
As he faced the apparition of his wife
He stood before the window gazing at the grave,
And with a lightened heart he saw the first of dawn,
He knew that she was waiting, that someday they'd be as one

Lamplight Symphony - Kansas

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