Hey everyone! My sister Sharon wrote an essay about the memorial service for Dylan and Brendon Lord.

Remembering the Lords

I walked into the New Hope Church as if waking up from a nightmare.

Dylan stood there in his football uniform, a sunny smile on his face. But then I shook my head and realized that it was just his picture displayed on a screen.

I sat down, twisting my scarf around my fingers until they turned purple. The auditorium was almost full, even though it wasn’t even six o’clock yet—the time the memorial was supposed to start.

Spotting three of my friends coming through the large double doors, I waved them over and motioned for them to sit next to me. They seemed to be laughing over some really funny joke; I smiled along with them until I realized that their shoulders weren’t shaking with laughter, they were shaking from tears. I paused for a moment, unsure what to do, and then walked up to comfort them.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and I rushed back to my seat. I had never been to a memorial service before, but I knew that I should be quiet. The football team walked up and a shock ran through me. I’m pretty sure every player was on that stage, wearing their football uniform or in dress clothes to show their sadness. So many showed their support and told everyone how awesome of a friend Dylan was.

As the football team slowly exited the stage, Brendon’s friends walked up and began to speak about how kind he was, and how he would affect all of our lives forever.

All of this just didn’t seem real to me; how could someone who was loved so much just be gone? I felt like any moment, Dylan and Brendon would just pop out and say, “Surprise! We were just tricking you! We’re back!” or something like that, but it wasn’t going to happen.

Throughout the whole thing, I was moved, more than I had ever been before. But what really touched my heart was when Mr. Leal, our Berry Miller principal, said we were going to make bracelets that said “To be continued” on it, in memory of Dylan’s piece of writing. Dylan wrote about how his uncle died last summer, and then ended with, “to be continued.”

To be continued. Those three words impact lives every day, whether you know it or not. It means the new beginning of one and then end of another. That really made me think about what was going on, and how that beautiful piece would not be continued…ever.

Even though I didn’t know Dylan well, when I walked out of the New Hope Church, I felt like he had been my very good friend.

“To be continued…”