When I walked over to the casket, I couldn’t look at him for more than a second. No tears came rushing down my cheeks, I felt nothing. When the ceremony began, I sat by my friends who knew him when we all dormed together in Kreischer Compton. Conversations were near to nothing. The church filled with family and friends who knew him as one of the kindest people to touch their lives. The priest kept on saying that he is in a better place now. Perhaps, but shouldn’t he be here with us? I looked over at my friends, some tears trickled down their faces. I still felt nothing, completely empty inside. After a heart-wrenching speech by his brother and comments by fellow friends and family, the ceremony came to an end.

I next found myself in the car traveling to the graveyard. I adjusted my tie and wiped off some dirt on my black shoes. Not my typical style, but it was for respect. I picked up the New York Times I was reading on the ride there. Some of the headlines read: “To Iran and its Foes, an Indispensable Irritant” and “Sectarian Toll Includes Scars to Iraq Psyche.” When I read the news, I sometimes feel that the end of the world is near. Maybe it is.

The open road distracted me. It was such a beautiful day, a gift given just to him. At the grave, more words were said by the priest and hugs and tears by family and friends. Doves were released in his name; they sailed to the skies defining what freedom was.

I had class at 3:30 p.m. and had to get back to campus. Conversations at lunch were back to normal. This is good. We remembered but moved on. I sat in silence with a feeling of emptiness in my heart. The day went on as usual.

By night I found myself at the library – I wanted to watch the sunset. I was reading “Three Lives” by Gertrude Stein as the sun slowly dipped behind the education building. The character, ‘Mis’ Herbert, had just died. As the sky filled with all the wonderful colors of the world, a tear slowly trickled down my face.

Tomorrow is never promised. We are all guilty of watching the clock during class in anticipation of it being over. There are nights where I have had too many drinks and can’t remember conversations or activities of the night before. I sit with friends, sometimes thinking of my next plans to do. I know I take this life for granted. Each day is a gift and we need to realize this.

I ask you, my friends, my fellow students, appreciate and enjoy each moment we have with each other. Whether it is during a boring lecture or walking through campus with the warmth of the sun on your face, be in that moment. Buddhists have a simple saying: “Live in the present.” This is what we need. Each moment is a gift to cherish and hold. Be in the presence of wherever you are and whoever you are with – you never know if you will get another chance to see that person. You never know if you will get to see tomorrow’s sunrise.

I dedicate this column to Jordan Shirey, a friend I never got a chance to say goodbye to. Jordan Shirey was a man of few words, but when those words were said, you listened. He had a big heart and knew the meaning of what friendship was. I am an English literature major here at the University and my parents like to say I am studying pre-unemployment. But I love what I am doing and I will always hold true to the words that Jordan always told me: “Find what you love in life, and do it.”

Thank you, Jordan. This is my goodbye and my thanks for knowing such a great man.