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Nature’s Currents
Near the coast of Africa, governed only by nature, was a reef that provided a home for many sea creatures. Whilst searching for stones to build himself a house, the newly independent sea turtle came across an oddity: A brightly colored fish was swimming upside down. In his investigation, he asked the fish why he swims like this to which the fish replied that it was just the way he was born and that he got along fine.
The turtle continued on with his life, building his house stone by stone, as he came across many uniquely colored and patterned fish. Every morning on his trip out, he would come across his upside down companion whose colors slowly began fading. Though the fish sparked his curiosity, he never gave it much more than a glance or a few encouraging words as he occupied his days with building his house.
***
When I was a child, I’d say my prayers every night. I’d fold my hands, proclaiming all that I had found to be grateful for throughout the day, and express my wishes for the next. I’d trust that he’d answer, and would rarely question if he didn’t.
As I got older, I progressively stopped saying my prayers. I’d forget one night — be too tired the next. With time, I realized that nothing had changed. Life occasionally went sideways just to be trailed by laughter and good times. There was never a point that I asked myself why this was; I merely neglected to consider the lack of God’s presence in my life. Until January 18th, I didn’t need to.
Thursday, January 18th — My father and I were coming back from a game, my team had won. We discussed the accolades and shortfalls of the coaches and players, as was routine between the two of us. Upon coming to a stop at a red light on Dixie, my dad filled his lungs with air, held for a couple seconds, and then released. With both hands firmly on the wheel, he told me — in his soft voice that cannot be replicated — my friend Evan, had died.
***
One day as the turtle was out gathering stones, nature produced an angry storm. The turtle took cover in a nearby coral as he waited out the raging currents and pouring rain. He grew increasingly anxious about the structure of his house, though could only hope it was strong enough to weather the wrath of nature.
Not long after the storm settled, the turtle emerged from its temporary cover and gathering the day’s stones, ventured cautiously back to its home. While focused on getting back to his house, something caught his attention; the upside down fish was no longer there. In a panic, the turtle dropped his stones and scurried to get the attention of a nearby octopus. Catching his breath, he interrogated the octopus on the whereabouts of the nearly grey upside down fish. The octopus said that the fish was unable to find cover from the storm and, without the protection of a rock, was swept away with the current.
***
The events that followed will likely remain in my memories in perfect living color for as long as I have the ability to reconcile. We soon found out that Evan had hung himself. In the days following, I shared in the devastation alongside my friends and classmates, as we listened to the poor attempts at consolation from family and faculty. Getting no closer to an understanding, I tried desperately to reason with my closest of friends. What was he thinking? Did he regret it? Why didn’t we see it sooner? Could this happen to us? Though, once again, to no avail.
With my most trustworthy friends, I attended the visitation. Lined up in the cold for an eternity, we spoke no words. I stood as Evan’s mom broke down in my arms. I joined in prayer led by his dad, and clinched my eyes shut as I kneeled aside his casket.
Finally, I looked to God. I had nowhere else to go. I could find the occasional momentary comfort in the presence of others that understood my frustrations, though I needed something more. My relationship with God has always been one based on respect: I make the most of the life he gives me, and in return he gives me more life to experience. Evan’s suicide did not follow this. Nobody did anything to deserve it. His parents did not deserve the loss of their son, we did not deserve the loss of a friend. I felt disrespected and I needed reason, so I gave in to the preachings I’ve heard all my life, and I talked to God. I begged for a response, I needed an understanding.
***
The turtle knew immediately that the upside down fish couldn’t be recovered. He was gone, taken by the current that nature had produced. The turtle grew frustrated as he couldn’t understand why nature had done this. Despite his extraordinarily bright and beautiful colors, the fish was born with a trait unsuited for his environment and regardless of his best efforts to succeed, nature exposed his faults. It just isn’t fair, the turtle thought.
The storm had mended the turtle’s house a bit though it still stood. Eventually, the turtle understood that his anger towards nature for taking his friend would never be resolved and so he went on finishing his house. With every trip out, the turtle would pause and consider the spot where his upside down friend once swam as he was reminded of his anger with nature.
***
Days eventually turned into weeks, as Evan was buried. The whispers silenced and life resumed. Expecting resolutions of some sort, I gathered the courage to visit his grave. I found only more frustrations. One day this will be me. All that I work for will be eradicated. Everyone I love will be gone.
Unless.
Unless I can spend my life finding ways to recognize and help those in need. Unless I can teach my children the lessons I’ve learned. Unless I can make an impact that can be felt in generations to come.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to mend my relationship with God to regather the respect we once shared for each other, but maybe that’s okay.
Maybe he - and Evan - have given me all that I need.
***
The turtle continued building his home until he was sure it was safe and sturdy to house his coming family. Though the anger of his late companion’s death dissipated, the turtle always kept the lessons he learned in mind. He’d always tell his children about the particular fish he found one day while making their house. He would preach kindness and the importance of considering the needs of others as he’d explain how the storm taught him how to build the house stronger.
Though he never found another fish that swam quite the same way, the turtle did his best to slow down, recognize, and appreciate the traits in all creatures that made them unique. He still couldn’t understand why nature had done what it did, but from then on his house did not shake — no matter the size of the storm or the strength of the current.
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My name is Austin and I'm a junior in high school. Last year, one of my close friends, Evan, Comitted suicide. When the word soread throughout the community, we were all left with the devastating realization that we are not as untouchable as we thought. As could be expected, everyone grieved in their own ways -- this memoir is simply a description of my thoughts and spirituality before and after January 18th, 2019.