As I reflect on graduation and the weeks leading up to it, I'd like to take inventory of all of my feelings: apprehensive, perplexed, selfish, ambiguous but, most importantly, humbled.
Many of you may know that several young people have passed away in the past few weeks. While I personally wasn't close friends with any of them, I am close with the families and friends who were and still are being affected by their deaths. Second only to feeling the actual pain of a loss so momentous, I experienced the dreadful feeling of watching a friend go through that pain -- and not being able to do anything to help.
As a high school graduate (I did it!), I have been offered more opportunities than I know what to do with. Not only have my educators prepared me for what is yet to come, but they have guided and befriended me along the way.
As I think about the loved ones lost this month, I feel, well, selfish. After all that I have been given, the most important possession of mine is my life. I was able to walk across the stage, shake hands and grab my diploma, while others who would have been there were not able.
While there is obviously nothing I can do on my own to change this, I can't help but feel self-centered. I had a party, pictures, my night out with friends, and yet, many mothers would clutch at the chance to hear their son or daughter argue back again.
Aside from feeling selfish, I have seen the awesome power of human beings comforting one another. It is amazing how, in a time of loss, people come together to build back up those who need it most. True friendship can be tested by the reaction during a time of need.
An acquaintance of mine once explained to me his thoughts on what a family goes through after the death of a loved one. While trying to grieve in their own time, families must host relatives, make arrangements for the deceased, explain a thousand times what happened, smile and nod, none of which makes the process any easier. With the help of close friends, a card, a casserole or even a song, families are able to perform all of these tasks simultaneously.
The real heroes are the grandmas who cook dinner, the aunts who clean the house, the cousins who fill the car with gas and the friends who are willing simply to sit in silence with a mother who has lost her child, just to be there for her.
While death is a natural process, no matter how well you prepare yourself, it is always a shock. The old routine and habits are forced to change, no matter how hard we try to retain normalcy. A new normal sprouts, but it definitely takes some getting used to.
Mothers and fathers are left wondering what, if anything, they could have done differently to prevent the tragedy from happening. It seems as though the ones who love and support a child often blame themselves while some others sit in judgment from afar.
Parents, I am saying this to you right now: The way you raise your children is perfect. You did not perform a parenting faux pas. You did everything you could for your child and more. The simple fact that you were willing to bring life into this world and nurture it is evidence that you had enough love and devotion for your child every step of the way.
Children, never take for granted all of the lessons your parents have taught you. Never once walk out on them or leave them wondering where you are or when you'll come home. Put yourself in their shoes and imagine how you'd feel if your child went missing. A change in your perspective may save your parents a lot of anguish.
For all mothers who have ever lost a child, I am truly sorry. I will not be able to understand the bond between a mother and child until I have my own, nor will I be able to comprehend the suffering you have gone through.
Mom, thanks for always loving me, even when I've been a pest.
Although Mother's Day has passed, I'd ask that you not only thank your own mother, but also think of the mothers who have lost a child. For now, be thankful for family and all of the moments spent in each other's company.
Sarah Kuta graduated from Grand Island Senior High on May 11, Mother's Day.

