In Remembrance of Charles R. Murphy

For over a decade now, the six of us girls have been best friends. We have seen each other in the best of the best and the worst of the worst. We have watched each other go from barely "legal" adults to crazy college kids to struggling "real" adults to flourishing women. We have rejoiced together in new relationships, job promotions, further education graduations, moves to new cities, and marriages. We have stood by one another through break ups, abuseful relationships, divorces, and funerals. So when tragedy struck for JL, we did the only thing we knew how to do: showed up in Hickman, KY to be there for her.

I have been beyond fortunate enough to have both of my parents still living. In just over a year, our family buried my three grandparents whom we lived a mere four houses from my entire life. We saw them regularly, spoke with them often, and traveled the globe together. Now when I come to Louisville, I pass their homes at least twice daily. My heart flutters every single time as my mind rolls through the memories of the times we shared. For my dad and mom, I can't even fathom what it feels like to pass a house for almost 30 years and stop to see your mom & dad only to now pass the same home daily knowing that its empty, only filled with memories.

Out of the six of us, three have now lost a parent at a young age. We are not seventy years old where this thing happens all the time. We are not pooling from a group of 200 people either. The reality is that 50% of our best friends have lost a parent, and we haven't even hit thirty years old yet. To be frank, that percentage terrifies me more than really anything in life at this point. And the truth is that two of the three were fatal accidents which no one saw coming.

In the town of Hickman, Mr. Charles resided as the Mayor. He gave a great deal to his community, his family, and his friends. He was a teacher, a principal, a mayor, a brother, a father, a grandfather, and a friend. The outpour of love and support from so many people who's lives he had touched was astounding. On the evening of his visitation, there must have been close to 400+ people who came to pay their respects to the family. As I sat and watched one by one the members of his life hug and console his children, I had an overwhelming feeling of greatness for one man's life. He left the legacy most people dream of leaving.

Life is short. Our time is not known by anyone than the good Lord. So hug the ones you love every chance you get. Call your mom, dad, grandparents, whoever as often as you can. Forgive quickly. Hold on to your memories. Listen to their stories. Say I love you every day. Because you never know when it will be time for another angel to be called home.