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TITLE: A Greater Tragedy
By Michelle Roufley
01/09/08
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I had a vision of two funerals. One on the left, the other on the right. Both of the deceased ladies looked much the same. Both had taken their own lives. That’s where the similarities ended.
The lady on the right was brought up as a young Christian should be. She was delighted in and treated as a princess while she was young. She enjoyed success in all that she put her mind to. She was cheered on while her basket ball team went to the state championships. Her parents glowed with pride as they mentioned her name.
She married her high school sweetheart. Her wedding was everything a young lady could desire. Right out of the fairy tale that little girls put themselves in as soon as they learn to dream.
She went on to have a successful career and climb the corporate ladder. “A tiger in a skirt.” is what they called her. The accolades kept coming. She became a woman of great influence.
Then one day her prince no longer wanted her. Her world came tumbling down. She tried to be strong. She tediously put on her make up and painted on her smile while she was at it. The proffered shoulders were subtly declined. She bore her burden until she broke under it.

The lady on the left was quite different. She was born into a family by accident. That seemed to define her life. She always “accidently” was where she was not suppose to be. She dreamed the fairy tale, but knew she’d never live it. At the age of 13 she learned that her step-fathers beer stash would take her away from it all if only for a little while. Soon that wasn’t enough. The “good” girls in school didn’t want to have anything to do with her, so in her need for companionship, she chose friends that were like her. With her friends she experienced something that she never knew before. She belonged. She would do anything to keep that. She found that where the alcohol stopped the drugs began. She could stay high and be in denial for as long as she needed to be.
Soon she needed money to feed her habit for her and her friends. She was hooked and she started stealing and robbing to keep them all going. Now she was facing prison. She was suppose to turn herself over tomorrow. Desperate and high she took one last look at her life and couldn’t live with what she saw.

The funerals were also quite opposite. The lady on the right had a huge service. People were standing in the doorway because they couldn’t all fit in the church. Hearts were breaking, people were wailing in anger and denial.

For the gal on the left there were two quiet mourners standing dry-eyed at her grave side where a short committal was spoken.

For the gal on the right her life was treasured and her death a tragedy. For the gal of the left her life a tragedy and her death was called a “blessing.”
I sit and wonder which is the greater of the two tragedies.
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