I can't put this eloquently, but I'll try.

I thought that today would be a great day to lie out on my hammock and get some homework done. Perhaps it was the sky streaked with white or the warm air. The weather was oddly picturesque. With my laptop pressed against my chest, I stepped out into the open air, dodging a few bumblebees and almost tripping as my dog ran under my legs. It was spring, no doubt about that.

Sitting on the hammock, I turned on my music. Though it didn't suit the weather, it was slightly motivating. Immigrant punk was all the rage when beating procrastination. I put myself in the horizontal position, my head resting on the pillow. I could hear the faint sound of a car pulling up somewhere. As I looked towards the grave yard, I saw two devastatingly handsome black men. They were both dressed in white t-shirts. “Probably visiting a late relative or friend,” I thought to myself. I muttered a small prayer and went back to my “work.”

I flipped through my rough draft, crossing out words, rephrasing…the normal editing routine. I glanced back at the graveyard and saw a mob of white and red shirts, plus a bunch of red balloons. This wasn’t so ordinary. I couldn’t help but be morbidly intrigued and curious. I turned off my music to be polite and pretended to be flipping through one of my books. They didn’t say much, nothing that I could hear anyways, and they stood still. I sighed and remained outside, my homework getting the best of me.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a mass of red fly through the air. The red balloons that I saw earlier were released from their bindings and set free.  I watched them for as long as I could, until the last trace of red disappeared. The sound of a woman mourning interrupted the whirring sound of my sister’s air conditioner. It didn’t take me long to realize…

…This woman probably lost her child. How I wanted to hop the fence and hug this stranger! How I wanted to join them, tell them that their child was free!! Tears filled my own eyes as I closed my laptop. I could no longer be a witness. I couldn’t help them. I couldn’t comfort them. Their tears wouldn’t soak my shirt, their cries wouldn’t be muffled in my shoulder and my hands would not rub their back in a gentle effort to console them. I was helpless.

I’m inside now, the service still going on. Though it’s a beautiful day, I need to be selfless. They need to have as much space as possible. They don’t need a stranger mourning. They need that stranger to be happy, to know how precious life is.

And I can assure them. I know.