Every once in a while you have an experience that leaves you thinking, “The world is changing for the better.” Today was one of those days. I wrote recently about “Steve,” who tragically took his own life 19 days ago at the age of 21. Today I attended his memorial service with hundreds of other people whose lives he touched in that short span. As one would expect, the service was emotionally devastating, but I came out of it very optimistic.
My optimism actually started when I first read the official
statement by Charlie’s family about his death. (Steve was one of the many
nicknames Charlie went by.) It was phrased very similarly to what you tend to
read when somebody dies of cancer. It stated that, after a long and valiant
battle, Charlie died of the disease of Depression. Yes, Charlie took his own life,
but I found that phrasing incredibly important. He didn’t die of suicide; he
died of Depression – an extremely common disease which is only just beginning
to be treated as such.
The service focused on Charlie’s kindness, his humor, his
humble passion. His friends and family talked about his love for music and
sports and helping others. His willingness for playing the guitar for his friends
when he was still in the early stages of learning inspired those around him to
do the things they loved unapologetically and without worrying about making
mistakes or being embarrassed. His was a life of joy, surrounded by incredible
friends and a loving, supportive family. He also suffered from a chronic
disease whose treatment is different for every patient and even different
day-to-day for any given patient.
While the speakers today focused mainly on their love for Charlie
and the times they shared with him, they also gave glimpses into the different
ways that they are dealing with their grief. Geordie – a good friend from high
school – has spent time gathering with his and Charlie’s mutual friends to support
each other and talk through this tragedy together. Charlie’s sister, Grace, has
found comfort in her faith and how her relationship with Charlie brought her
closer to her God. His other sister Abby expresses herself through art and processed
her grief by creating a video compilation of music, images, and film which
showed the many sides of her brother throughout his life. His college
fraternity brother, Mack, mentioned the bracelets that his fraternity has made,
featuring Charlie and the phrase, “Check on your friends” to bring the
discussion of Depression into the open on their campus. Katherine, who was a high
school classmate of Charlie’s, talked about not actually being that close with
him in school, but getting to know him only a month before his death as they
worked together to support the school’s post-pandemic “mega-reunion.” She
reminded us to take time to appreciate the connections and communities we share
even when we don’t recognize them at the time. Her words introduced the hymn “On
Our Way Rejoicing,” which every student at the school has sung before every
vacation for many years. My one big disappointment of the day was that we all
sang the hymn very respectfully, rather than the way students traditionally
sing it, boisterously shouting certain verses. The shouting would have put a
smile on Charlie’s face.
The most painful, beautiful, and hopeful part of the service
today, though, was the reflection by Charlie’s father. As a parent myself, I
don’t know how he found the strength to get through his words. First he thanked
his family for the love they have given to Charlie and for the strength they
have given him through the years and especially through this tragedy. He talked
about his love for Charlie and his memories of the “best son you could ever ask
for.” The second half of his reflection, though, is what really got me thinking
about how the world is becoming a better place. He spoke confidently and with
pride about Charlie’s valiant battle with the illness of Depression. He urged
everybody present to look deep into themselves and to admit without any shame
if they needed help. He talked about the importance of getting treatment and
proudly announced that he would be starting to work with a therapist this week
to get the “long overdue” help he needed for his own struggle with Depression.
After the service, there was all the usual talk during the
reception. “So great to see you, but I wish it could’ve been under different
circumstances.” Just as common, though, was talk of the reality of Depression,
the necessity of getting help, the recognition that, if someone as filled with
joy and as surrounded by love and support as Charlie fell victim to that
disease, we all could. Hundreds of people today talked openly about Depression,
mental illness, getting help. The one topic that was nowhere to be found was
shame. These young adults are going out into the world, facing all the
challenges our generation has left for them, and they are talking about Depression
as the disease that it is – something that could affect anybody, and something
that carries no more shame than any other disease. As somebody who has
struggled with Anxiety and Depression throughout his life and only had the
courage to get help in his 40s, this gives me so much hope. I doubt we’ll ever
find a true cure for Depression, but I believe the generation currently turning
from teenagers into adults is the generation that will make it a treatable
disease – something that is identified much more quickly than it is now, and that
is controllable so that you can live a long and happy life with it. A life without
shame, knowing that even in the darkest times, there is a way out. We aren’t
there yet, as Charlie’s loss has made painfully clear, but we’re getting
closer. One thing I’ve learned as a teacher is that, when young people get
their minds set on changing the world, it’s best to get out of their way and
try to support them as best you can. I hope my generation will listen to these
young people and get out of their way. They ARE making the world a better place
and one of the greatest privileges of my life is that I get to cheer them on
from the sidelines as they go. If we had sung “On Our Way Rejoicing” properly
today, we would have shouted the line, “Vanquished is the foe!” I left today’s
service optimistic that we will soon be shouting that line about the foe of Depression.
It may never go away, but I believe this generation will remove the shame, open
up the conversation, and truly vanquish the foe.
No comments:
Post a Comment