The other day I walked past the funeral home, and the sidewalk was crowded with teenagers, all dressed neatly, standing, talking, smoking. I came home and searched the internet to see if I could find a notice of whose funeral it was - a classmate? A beloved teacher? But I found nothing. I don't know why it seemed so important that I know who they were mourning, but it was. Maybe because for a few minutes, while reading about this unknown person whose life was cut short, I could join them in their grief? I don't know.