Everything's An Illusion

I was eight years old when I first experienced death.

The funny thing about death is that no matter which side of the fence you’re on, it’s always life-changing. If you’re the person who died, obviously your life is changed because it’s just ended. And if it was your family member that died then that’s a huge part of your life that’s just suddenly disappeared. Poof, gone.

But your life can be changed even if you didn’t know them. Mine was.

My best friend’s older brother was killed in a car accident when we were eight. I didn’t know him, I had only ever seen him once. The thing about Dustin is that he was nineteen and in college when he died. He always just seemed like a thing more than a person when he was alive to me; a topic of conversation between Deeana and their parents, or a picture here and there in Deeana’s house. At first, the only reason Dustin’s death changed me was because of the way it effected Deeana. She was devastated, and as her best friend so was I.

I remember being at the wake and seeing the casket, and wondering if Dustin was really in there. And even if the body was really in there, was it really Dustin? Were you still you when you died? I remember wrapping my arm around Deeana’s shoulders when it was her turn to kneel in front of the casket to pray.

After the funeral, Dustin’s death became just a vague memory. The only time I would really think about it was around the anniversary when Deeana would become even more moody and upset than usual.

Dustin wasn’t a part of my life until nine years after his death.