I’m not a religious person and I never really have been. I don’t go to mass, I don’t pray, I don’t go up for communion on the rare occasion I find myself sitting in a wooden pew.
But I’d also be lying if I said that religion didn’t bring me some form of inexplicable peace when dealing with death.
When Richie died, I didn’t know what to do. I don’t even remember how it happened but I somehow was put in touch with my high school chaplain, Ross, and he asked for my help in organizing a memorial at the school for Richie. Of course I said yes.