I'm going to the memorial service this afternoon for someone I've known since Kindergarten.

[no_hypocrisy]

Her name was Laurie. She literally lived one block away from our family. I knew her brother, sister, and mother.

She was in my kindergarten class but after that, we just didn't run in the same social circles. We graduated high school together.

Of course, being a small school and town, I kind of knew generally what was going on with her. She dated Joe since sixth grade (almost 50 years ago) and married him and their marriage thrived. They lived down South for a while but returned to live in her childhood home after her mother died, sharing the house with her older brother.

She died suddenly a week ago from a brain aneurysm. By this stage in my life, I've known of several classmates who have died too soon, one on 9/11. But I still have a feeling of being disconcerted every time it happens. Laurie is no exception. I wonder should I have tried harder to know her better.

Her loss is nonetheless personal. I feel like I've returned to our kindergarten class and one more little kid has left the circle proverbially. What also has struck me is the number of remarks in the "guest book" online from the girls in our class, all heartfelt. You have the feeling of the past where if you were a little girl who got hurt on the playground, a circle of girls would gather around you to see if you were all right, to comfort you. It's a similar feeling while reading their condolences.

[secondwind]

1. I know how this feels. I was in boarding school for almost 7 years, and to this day we are the sam

We left boarding school 55 years ago and it feels like yesterday. Would not have it any other way.

[JayhawkSD]

2. I was at a Lutheran memorial service some years ago.

A close friend's grandmother died and I went with him and his family to her memorial service at the Lutheran church where they were regular members, and attended every week. Their grandmother was not a member and never went to church. The pastor stood up front and said something the really touched me.

"I want to tell you about two people," he said. "One was an elderly man named Tom, who came to this church every Sunday. He had been here several years and I had called on him at his home a few times. He lived alone, had no family, no living relatives, but he was here for service every Sunday without fail. Suddenly I noticed that he had not been her for two or three weeks, and I went to his home and discovered that he had died. We held a memorial service for him, and the church was almost empty.

"The other person was Agnes, who was not a member of this church. Her family members are of our church and come every week. Agnes passed away, and here wa are holding a memorial service for her. Her family is here and the church is filled almost to capacity.

"That tells me something important," he went on. "Here was Tom, a member of this church but with no family left behind and an empty church at his service. And then we have Agnes, not a church member, but with a family left behind, and the church family turns out in full force to support Agnes' family in their loss.

"It tells me," he said, and this is the point I am making, "that the purpose of a memorial service is to bring together a larger community for mutual support at a time of loss."

[no_hypocrisy]

3. That's so lovely and so true.

I've gone to the services for two of my teachers from grammar school and for parents of friends from school.