Reflections on a Tragedy | “What I Should Have Said”

On Wednesday night David Austin Balfour, a member of my high school graduating class, died in a car accident.

Since I heard about David’s death I have had this gnawing feeling in my gut. It’s one of those feelings that just won’t go away. When these kinds of events happen I can’t help but think about it. And when the event includes something that just doesn’t make sense I really have to try and make some sense of it. I have to think about it over and over until some clarity comes. It came to me this afternoon as I read and re-read what so many who cared about David said and wrote on his Facebook page.

There are so many questions that we want answers to. There are so many thoughts about what was and what could have been. Even what should have been. There are so many memories of good times and hopes for “soon” times. There are so many words, ideas and desires that were shared. But, that is where our grief and heartbreak crash headlong into our regret.

While it has been many years since I have seen David, I understand the emotions that come in moments like this. My brother-in-law also died in a car accident a year ago. He was 24 years old. I get it. I do. What makes these hours and days since David’s death so painful is the reminder that while many things WERE said, and many things WERE shared, there remains this feeling of “What I Should Have Said…” still lingering.

The questions that come to mind are like these:

  • Did he know how much I cared for him? About him?
  • Did he understand how much he meant to me?
  • Why didn’t I ever tell him how much it meant to me that one time he did… fill in the blank.

All of these ideas run through our minds because the thought that something that should have been said was left unsaid begins to fray at the edges of our sanity. Regret is the constant reminder that something was left unfinished. There is something incomplete about all of this. Take it from me, don’t go there. Don’t do that. It won’t change anything. And it may do more harm than good.

What we have to do is to not let this tragedy be in vain. Would we prefer that David were here with us? Yes, there is no doubt about it. I don’t know of anyone that wouldn’t want that. But, we don’t get to make that choice. That one, that one choice, is outside of our reach. But, there is another choice that we can still make. It’s a choice that I think both honors David and helps us all to heal if we make it.

Make the decision to never again worry about, “What I Should Have Said.” Make the decision, that from today until the end of your days, you will strive to not leave any unfinished business. Right now, today, tell that someone, the one you are thinking about right now, who needs to hear from YOU that thing that you have been waiting for the “right” time to say.

There is no better time than now.

There will never be a better day, than today.

The Unexpected Has Happened… Again | David Austin Balfour Remembered

In Memory of

David Austin Balfour

September 5, 1979 – January 11, 2012

I woke up this morning to the news that a classmate was no longer walking this earth. We were acquaintances in high school, but we interacted often enough to get to know each other.

As I read the news on the internet and on his Facebook page I had a memory flash into my mind of us sitting in Mrs. Griswell’s Senior English class. I was sitting near the back of the room, the second row from the door. He was sitting in the first row next to the door, the third chair from the front, facing the rest of the class, with his classic grin. If you knew David, you know which one I’m talking about. There wasn’t a care in the world to him. I wished then that I could know what that felt like.

This is the first memory that came to mind this morning.

It would be a lie to say that I don’t know why I am so bothered by the news of David’s death. He is gone. No more status updates on Facebook. No more class reunions to attend. David’s journey on this earth has come to an end. And I am bothered.

I am bothered because I wish the circumstances were different. I am bothered because there were things left unsaid for those that knew him most and best. I am bothered because I really don’t have anything to say that will change the reality of what happened last night. But, I think what bothers me most is that I was reminded, yet again, that there is no guarantee of tomorrow for any of us. I don’t think David was thinking yesterday that he would not be here today. I don’t think that it even crossed his mind that January 11, 2012 was going to be his last day on Earth.

The fact that life is so fragile, so unpredictable should make all of us carefully consider what we invest our time into. The unexpected has happened…again. Losing someone we know or love cannot be avoided. We would just rather not think about it. But, today we don’t have that luxury. Today we are faced with David’s death and our mortality. Today we can’t avoid dealing with the reality of death and the eventuality of our own demise.

Days like today are difficult. The following words have helped me understand how I should respond and deal with the reality of events like David’s death. I share them here, not as an explanation of why this happened. That would be foolish. I share them to let all of us know that we are not alone in our grief and pain. Our sadness and contemplation. I hope that they help to provide some perspective.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. [Source]

David, I hear the bell tolling.

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