Tragedy struck this past week in Beverly Hills. The beloved soccer coach at the high school – a thirty-year-old man in excellent health – died suddenly from a massive heart attack. This is sad all on its own, but it became more personal for me when one of my high school seniors, who has been my writing student for several years, came on Saturday and asked me to help him write his part in his coach’s memorial service, which was being held on Sunday.
My student lives and breathes soccer. He already has a college soccer coach who is eager for him to play on his highly ranked team, and he currently is the captain of the Beverly Hills High School team. Because of his leadership role, the coach’s wife asked my student to speak on behalf of the team at the memorial service.
When I saw my student walk in, I knew that something terrible had happened. This boy, who usually greets me with a warm smile and a hug, sank down in his chair and averted his gaze. When I asked, “What’s happened?” tears welled up in his eyes, and he told me the news. I went over and hugged him. My eyes filled with tears just seeing his sadness. Untimely death is difficult enough for an adult to understand, but for a teenager, it has to be almost incomprehensible.
This boy told me that his coach had been at their high school practice the afternoon of his death, urging on the team and cracking jokes. He had then gone on to play a soccer game that evening with his peers – and scored three goals – before going home to see his wife of only a few short months. “His wife is so beautiful,” my student said, “and they were so happy.”
Apparently, the coach had his usual evening and was just going to bed when he said to his wife, “I’m a little hungry. I think I’ll get a snack.” He was just turning to head to the kitchen when the heart attack struck. He collapsed to the floor and without another word, died.
There is not a soul who can’t imagine the horror that young wife must have experienced at that moment. The idea that young woman was there alone dealing with such tragedy is heartbreaking even to contemplate. And I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult the phone call must have been to her young husband’s parents – and to her parents. The abject pain that comes from such an event is beyond words.
My student cried as we wrote his memories of his coach. I cried with him. And before the hour was done, we had a fitting tribute to this man who my student clearly loved.
Yesterday after the memorial service, which was held at the high school for all the students who had been touched by this coach’s exemplary life, my student texted me. He wrote, “I want you to know how much I appreciate you helping me write my speech. Everyone told me how good it was. Thank you so much.”
I could never have predicted that one of my roles in life would be writing eulogies for my siblings, and now assisting a student in writing a memorial speech for his coach. I guess none of us know how our experience might aid another. Still, I’m happy that I could do my small part to bring a bit of solace to my student. He is a wonderful boy with a big heart and a promising future. He is also a sweet soul who knows how to cry when he’s in pain.
May light perpetual shine on the Beverly Hills High School coach, and may all those touched by his fine spirit, feel his light all of their days.
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