A human vacancy—Mourning a loss is necessary and different for everyone

I’m lucky — I haven’t dealt with much loss in my life.

My mom’s parents died when I was a baby. My dad’s father died when I was in fifth grade, but I didn’t know him well. We attended the funeral and I cried because this person, who loved so many of my loved ones, was gone. Even though I didn’t know him, I felt so heavy and sad because this person left.

This was my first experience with death.

Since then, I’ve become a journalist. I read headlines all day, and most of them are about death.

People are always dying — it’s part of life. But it always seems so far away, in the Middle East, the East Coast, Haiti. Death is terrible but it’s commonplace and just far enough away that I feel detached. It’s hard to react strongly to something so detached from my life here in quiet, safe Moscow.

I opened Twitter Tuesday morning and skimmed through various news and sports headlines when I came across the headline: “WSU student found dead at fraternity Monday morning.”

My stomach dropped.

A majority of my high school graduating class became Cougars and I’ve made plenty of friends in Pullman since starting college. As the article loaded, I started mentally listing my friends in Greek life at Washington State. The picture was the first thing to load, a picture of Pi Kappa Phi in Pullman.

“Thank God,” I thought. “I don’t know anyone in Pi Kappa Phi at Washington State.”

I read through the brief story. He was pronounced dead in his bed by police in the house.

The article gave his name at the end. Brock Lindberg sounded familiar. My stomach dropped even lower. I opened Facebook and found I was right — I knew him.

We weren’t friends. I honestly don’t think we ever spoke, but I knew who he was. In my few memories of him, he smiled a lot.

He was a real person and we existed in the same space for several years. And now he’s gone.

I shouldn’t be outliving my classmates at 20 years old.

As his death sank in, I started feeling like I was being rude to his memory. What right did I have to feel sad about Lindberg’s death? I didn’t know him. I felt like I was insulting him and everyone who was close to him.

But mourning for someone, regardless of friendship level, is important.

Feeling sad for the loss of a person is a good thing. As much as it hurts, it reminds me that I’m having a uniquely human experience and how lucky I am to live a life that allows me to have those human experiences and emotions.

Mourning also acknowledges someone left and won’t be coming back. It’s such a fickle thing to wrap my head around, in part because I’ve never reached for my phone to text someone only to remember they aren’t there.

At this age, it’s striking when classmates die. I don’t know many of my peers that think they’ll die at 21. Most students plan for a career — that’s why they’re in college. They want to have a shot at creating a life for themselves. They shouldn’t be dead before they have their shot at the real world.

Lindberg could have been any of my friends at Washington State. It could have been someone in Greek life, or not, at Idaho. It could have been the girl next to me, or the man walking past me. It could have been me.

Death touches us all at some point. Whether it’s a relative, friend or acquaintance, no one should downplay their grief. The world has lost someone unique — a person with a future, a person who didn’t plan to leave so soon. Feel that.

Tess Fox can be reached at [email protected] or on Twitter @tesstakesphotos

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