Growing Pains

ksl.com - Woman killed in rollover accident

I don't think of girls my age as "women," but we are.

I don't know anyone close to me that has died, but I will.

I don't know how to express love and concern for a family of a girl I knew 10 years ago, but I want to.

I don't want to get older, when it's even more common to hear that a former classmate has passed on, but it's happening.

I don't know what to say when my best friend calls, heartbroken over the news, but I try.

I don't feel right saying I'm in mourning when I haven't seen someone for at least 6 years, but it's true.


I remember Chelsie Hill as a nice, smiling girl that was friends with all of my friends. When I think of her, I see her in a class officer polo shirt from our 9th grade year in junior high. I try and recall specific conversations or classes we had together, and I come up short. Her death is so sad. But when I'm being completely honest, it's clear that we were little more than acquaintances.

So why am I so upset? Why have I been on the verge of tears since hearing the news? Why can't I concentrate on any of my work?

She has friends and family feeling this loss so acutely, and I wonder why I feel like this is somehow my loss, too.

Maybe it's textbook empathy. Maybe I'm saddened over the fact that I never knew her better. Maybe it's scary to realize how fragile life is.

Or maybe it comes down to the simple fact that the death of anyone so young, with so much life left to look forward to, is nothing less than tragic.