Tribute/Memorial Page in memory of Carrie Largent
Carrie's Gravestone, visited on her birthday, 12/30/06:
The inscription reads:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world give you. Do not let your hearts
be troubled and do not be afraid.
Carrie's Myspace Page
Carrie's FaceBook Page
In Remembrance of Carrie Largent
Web Photo Collaboration page (designed by Brian Cook)
Friends can upload photos here
Two beautiful songs, which I'm going to try and add as background music for this page:
'When I get Where I'm Going', By Brad Paisley
'Lay Me Down', by Andrew Peterson
I've created a Tribute/Memorial Page for a friend that recently passed away. Included is an essay of mine that was requested and published in the Duke Chronicle on 3/27/06.
(People wrote comments on this, but I need to figure out how to retrieve them, as they only normally show on the main page)|
RIP Carrie Largent, (December 30, 1980 - March 11, 2006)
Carrie was an incredible person, and a great friend, whose memories I will cherish forever. My utmost condolences to her amazing family and friends.
Obituary (guestbook comments here)
Memorial Page here on Neoperspectives
RIP Carrie Largent
By Travis Snyder
The death of Carrie Largent was a shock to us all. Carrie was an incredible person, and a great friend, whose memories I will cherish forever. I extend my utmost condolences to her amazing family and friends.
But let us dispense with the ubiquitous effervescence of description depicting the wonderfulness of our dearest Carrie and return to this initial shock and the questions proliferating from it. There are no easy explanations; as the priest said in his eulogy, sometimes it is best not to search for understanding, as the ‘reasons’, if it is even accurate to call them ‘reasons’, are above and beyond us.
Here was a beautiful girl, with a perfect family, a million caring friends, a brilliant mind, a loving heart, attending a prestigious medical school.
Perhaps we are thankful for and see value in the wrong things.
Instead of appreciating our families, friends, intellects, and the countless other trivialities we seek comfort and even find pride in, might we ought instead to be grateful for our very consciousness, the gloriousness of our everyday experiences? To see the blue in the sky, to feel the sun on the skin, even to succumb to the radiant flash from Carrie’s smile as she lit up the room.
How do we experience life, the very act of living? The fundamental conscious experience, the perception of being itself, is both the most important aspect of our lives and the hardest to shift.
Carrie should know; she certainly tried her hardest to move the immovable. And she wasn’t even alone. She had some of the best psychiatric and psychological help available and the unwavering support of the many, many close to her who loved her.
In the end it wasn’t enough because nothing could be enough. One can only do so much, one can only help so much, one can only be there so many times before the perfect storm strikes. In the end, and only in retrospect, all that could be done was done, and more.
However, the absence of satisfactory answers to our questions may provide wisdom in their silence. Listening carefully, we can discover the positive lessons Carrie would surely want to leave with us: help a neighbor, say a kind word to a stranger, and attempt to empathize with the feelings and actions of others. And, most importantly, enjoy our own lives to the fullest with the utmost humbleness, gratefulness, and amazement.
Editors Note: Travis Snyder, the author of this remembrance essay is a first year medical student attending Touro University Nevada School of Osteopathic Medicine and is a close friend of Carrie Largent and the Largent family.