Thefts, charity and a funeral

I haven't written for a while, I know. In the past few weeks, it has been quite hectic actually, which means that I have a lot to tell!

Firstly, my computer and our projector were stolen. The day after, my sister's cellphone and wallet. Two weeks later (yesterday), four wallets, 4kr and a bus card from Örebro were stolen. Same place (church), same occasions. Geez. At least now I have a more awesome new computer!

Secondly, Marius and I have started volunteering in Josephinehemmet and we have been there twice now. I know that that's not such a big number, but our schedule haven't fit that's all... I played Air in G and Canon in D for them on my violin. :) Also, it was very insightful to get to hear some of the old people's stories. It was fascinating to hear them talk about their experiences!

Lastly, I have been a lot in church lately. Not only because of Easter and our most recent concerts, but because of other reasons too such as our recent YFL Camp batch 3. Also, there was a tragedy which occurred within the community which led to my sister and I being servants during a funeral.

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As the newspapers have mentioned, there was a 13 year-old boy who died because of a game in Slussen. The game was "Urban Exploration" where you explore closed areas underground. While the boy was playing on the undergrounds of Slussen he fell 30m down into a hole.

In my life, I have been to five funerals so far. Two because of old age, one because of cancer, one because of suicide and lastly one because of a game. When I tell my friends this, they tell me it's too much for a 16 year-old. However I must say, these funerals do teach me a lot of things.

During this funeral, I looked around me and I saw people filled with grief. There was an ambience of calamity throughout the entire church. I looked around me, and I didn't know anyone. I didn't even know the boy. However, those cries told me a lot.

Even though I didn't know him, I couldn't help but start crying myself. As I saw the family grieving on the front row, all I could see were their empty faces covering their feelings inside. They could only indicate and give me an impression of their emotions. No matter how much they cry, I would never understand. Noone will.

I looked around me and I saw that at least half the room were of children younger than me. I thought to myself, imagine at that age you are already faced with the reality of death. Imagine that already by that age, you have already forever lost a friend. You will never be able to reminisce those those "good old days", as those days have yet not come.

I marched out the aisle at church holding one of the boy's many baskets of flowers to the song "How to kill a mockingbird" by Eminem. Suddenly, we hear a high-pitched shriek. It was the mother screaming as the coffin, holding her son leaves her sight - forever.