You may think I'm just fine,

How could anything ever be out of line?
I take my time to set the stage,
To make sure everything is all in place.

It's never easy to deal with death. You're left empty and questioning, longing for more time and searching for that rock you can turn to in grief. But somehow, unexpected death is so much worse. Every feeling is amplified, magnified, thrown constantly into your face. All of a sudden the "Why?"s turn into "Why didn't I?"s and your last shared memory is branded before your eyes. There's a weight in your chest that won't let you breathe. You're grasping for something, anything to make it all right again. You don't simply regret their death; you regret not being more present in their life and not saying what you always wanted and never had the courage for.

Wendy was one of the teachers for my Confirmation class junior year of high school. She was the type of person that everyone naturally respected and looked up to. She worked with a sweets factory and always brought us leftovers, and she was always there to listen if you needed help.

When I first met Wendy, I was immediately struck by her faith. It was so strong! She turned to the Lord for everything, no matter how small. That year was a time I was really struggling with my own faith. I was dealing with the suicide of a close friend and my relationship with God was suffering. Wendy was the person who talked me through the rough times that year and helped shine a light in the darkness to show me back to the right path. She was my role model, the person I looked up to and respected above just about everyone else.

The following summer I learned that Wendy had been diagnosed with cancer. I was devastated. But she taught me to have hope, and I refused to believe she would be anything other than okay. Such a strong person simply couldn't lose to something as little as cancer! She was going to beat it, I was sure, and so I sent her encouraging emails and kept up to date on her progress while she was in the hospital. By January 2010 she was on her way into remission and even had the strength to visit my youth group on the Confirmation retreat I was facilitating at a camp in the hills near our town.

Not long after her visit the emails stopped. I assumed she was doing much better and was the taking time to be with her family, and so I thought nothing of it.

This evening, just before Mass, I got a text from my high school youth pastor:

"Wendy lost her battle with cancer. She passed away this morning."

I was shocked. I asked my choir director if I could go outside for a moment and he asked if I could wait just a moment and run through the Recessional with them. I said no and walked out. Before the door had fully closed behind me I was on the floor sobbing. This couldn't be happening! She was so healthy and full of life, it just wasn't fair, or possible, or...fair!

The rest of Mass, and really this evening, passed in a blur.

I spent this weekend at a retreat with my college youth group, learning how to let go and let God and live for Him. But nothing puts life in perspective like the death of someone you care about.

RIP Wendy Havner, loving mentor and friend.

Things aren't always what they seem.
You're only seeing part of me.
There's more than you could ever know
Behind the scenes.