Rememberance

My mind seems to be clouded with so many memories of this week from many years ago.

Particularly, I remember Monday, because of the date: April 20th.

I don't remember the day of the week, but I remember sitting in my Spanish classroom with Senior Stookesberry at Highlands Ranch High School. Within minutes of each other, students' cell phones began going off. Alarmed and against the teachers' will, they began answering them. A boy's girlfriend hysterically cried into the phone, as she crouched in the library of Columbine High School, trying to hide from Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. He could hear guns going off on the other end and people screaming. Another girl's friend was in the cafeteria. And yet another friend hid in a classroom, hiding and waiting for someone to help them. Each student called someone in my class for comfort. We began trying to get up and leave, and that's when we received notice over the intercom that we were going on lock down and were to stay in our classrooms. It was very nerve-wracking and desperate feeling. Our school sat just 5-10 minutes away from where this tragedy took place.

Twelve students and a teacher were killed from this shooting--the deadliest high school shooting in American history and the fourth largest school shooting--and 23 others were wounded.

I can't remember if my parents picked me up that day or if I walked home, but I remember the embrace with my mother. She held me so tight, and we wept. To think that something of that nature could happen and so close to home.


My other memory takes me back to this date, but three days later, eight years ago in that very same place, HRHS, in HR, CO. I walked into my honors physics class to find Coach Wright, my softball coach, distraught and down. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I noticed that Tyler's seat was empty. Before class began, he informed us that today would be different. Tyler had taken his life on Friday, April 20th. I remember that I felt like I couldn't breathe. My heart raced, and the tears flooded.

I remember the day Tyler walked into my class. When I say that it was honors physics, I mean that it covered the first year of college-level physics. AP covered the first and second year. This class consisted of 1 or 2 juniors, and the rest were seniors. Tyler came to our class on his first day of school, much later in the semester. He was a transfer student and he was a SOPHOMORE. The teacher asked him if he was in the right classroom. Within minutes of resuming the lesson, Tyler raised his hand and very boldly asked such an in-depth question that heads turned and jaws dropped. Coach Wright wasn't sure how to respond, as he looked shocked that Tyler would even have the intellect to come up with such a question, let alone answer it. He shook it off and ignored his remaining questions for the day. As the semester went on, it became apparent that Tyler was different. He possessed such intelligence, above and beyond anyone I had ever met up to that point. It isolated him. I was often grouped with his table and his partner, Kyle. I remember no one could keep up with him. His mind was always going and people would just stare. He spoke about his music and playing by ear. He professed to be atheist. Kyle and Tyler often did not see eye-to-eye on topics.

I never made fun of Tyler. But I never stood with him either. I struggled with some of the things he said. For one, I had no idea what he was talking about, and some of the time, he just didn't seem like he was there.

Fast forwarding to his death, I remember the pain of hearing the news. My mind questioned my heart and my intentions. Why had I not personally given Tyler a reason to live? Why had I not befriended him in a way that helped him? I left the classroom and found my brother, Steven. I needed to let him know that I loved him. And I needed to escape. My mom came and took me home, and I cried myself to sleep.

That night or the next was the viewing--in this case a memorial service. I felt prompted to go, even though I didn't know Tyler very well. I fought this prompting so hard. I sat in the parking lot for some time. At last, I went in, to find that I was the only student, I believe, from HRHS to come. I spoke with his parents and immediately felt such a bond to them. I shared my testimony of the Savior, and eternal families.

His funeral came and my physics class attended together. I remember being the only student out of some 300-400 people in attendance, who wore something other than black. Many classmates gave me grief, saying that I was disrespecting his death. But I had to wear something that represented SPRING. I wore a yellow dress with purple, pink, and green flowers on it. I had found peace, and I needed to communicate that to his family. Suicide is not something I condone, but my heart gained compassion in this instance. I felt some of Tyler's pain. I considered what it must have felt like to feel that desperate, that alone, that sad, and that pained. Then, I thought of the Savior. I thought about how much They valued and loved Their precious Tyler. I thought about how They knew his heart and that They would ultimately judge him. I was immediately filled with love and compassion and charity for this wonderful boy.

Since then, I have developed such a wonderful relationship with his amazing family. I have had many opportunities to discuss the Savior's role in our lives and share my feelings about the Book of Mormon and the blessings of the temple with them. I have had the opportunity to feel Tyler's presence and feel like this was something that he wanted me to do--sharing the Gospel with them--even though he professed to not believe in God. I look forward to the day when I will get to see my classmate and friend again. This time, I will let him know how wonderful and truly remarkable he is. I will let him know of the love I have for him, because he is good and he is a son of God.

Perhaps this is a pretty heavy topic to discuss on something so simple like a blog, but I've felt the need to share this. Perhaps, this experience might strengthen someone else's struggle with the loss of a loved one to suicide or when tragedy strikes.

As the scriptures say in John 14:27, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."