Farewell, Sarah

I've been struggling with this post for a week now, and I'm still not convinced I've got it right, but it felt wrong to abandon it altogether.

Eight days ago, I went to Sarah's funeral. She was 22, and it was very sad, but there were some humorous moments which I think she would have appreciated. She had Goth tendencies, so her coffin had silver chains and symbols on it, and some flowers were in the shape of a large, black boot with buckles up the side. Driving alone in my car, I managed to become separated from the cortege, and couldn't find my way from Cheadle to Cheddleton, so I finally arrived at the church just as the last piece of music was playing.

There is a lot I could write about the whole event, but I've chosen not to. Instead, I'm going to finish with what I've concluded over the last few weeks: what sets us apart from animals, in my opinion, is the choice of whether or not to fulfill our potential to make a difference.