No one should have to go to the funeral of a 14-year-old kid. Any aged kid, really. But Saturday that is what we did. Our cousin was celebrated in a beautiful tribute to his short life.

We also celebrated the 5 people that this young man saved by donating his organs. Today an 11-year-old, 14-year-old, 24-year-old, 39-year-old, and 70-year-old have a chance at life because of his generosity.

I didn’t know this kid, except maybe meeting him once at a holiday dinner where we exchanged awkward smiles and the traditional nod. What I learned about him at the celebration of life told me that I would have really liked him. I’ll bet he had great stories and strong opinions. He sounded like a handful and who doesn’t love a handful? I was sad I didn’t get to know him.

I loved that they truly chose to celebrate his life. His whole life. Not just his strong points, not just his goodness but also what appeared to be a rebellious streak, a tendency to bend the rules; he was a teenager after all. Naturally, they chose the words carefully that showed the silver lining to what we all know could be difficult behaviors. Of course they did; they are the parents, the brothers, the sisters, the friends, the people who love him.

What I loved most is that the celebration of life was on his favorite dock to fish from. It was where he spent so much of his time. It was where he lived. They didn’t bring us to some hole in the ground to reflect on his death. They took us to reflect on his life.

Where would we go for my reflection? The more I think about it, the more I realize that I probably need to make some choices that would change that scenery.

Where would we go that reflects how you lived?