I'm folding laundry when the phone rings. It's a guy I used to 'see'. At a loss as to why he'd be calling me, I pause before speaking. What he says catches me off guard.

A man we knew from high school is dead. Not only dead, but murdered. Unintentionally, but taking a life is still taking a life whether one intends it or not. A late night, alcohol and one punch. POOF! He's gone. Apparently he had a few words with a stranger and that particular stranger snuck up from behind, struck him and caused him to fall and hit his head on the concrete below. After being taken to the hospital, he was put into an induced coma and received cranial surgery. Just a few days later, he's gone. The stranger remains unknown. Although I'm sure the stranger didn't have fatal intent, in some twisted way, I hope he knows just what he has done.

As for the one who has passed, I didn't know him terribly well. He was the best friend of my high school sweetheart, so I certainly spent time with him but I hadn't seen him in years. Still, the world just may have lost someone special. I remember him being shy but funny, and genuinely kind. I don't know what kind of man he became, but I know the people who love him must be suffering terribly.

The viewing services are Saturday, which is Chris' birthday. Part of me would like to attend. I hope Chris understands, especially since that's likely the same day his family is getting together to celebrate. Doesn't death deserve precedence?

In the news article, his mother said she looked into his eyes and saw his unspoken questions. How can one forget something like that? It will likely be burned into her memory to haunt her dreams.