Dear $am:
I know, I know...
you are probably thinking: "Girl, seriously I haven't seen or heard from you in 13 years."
And you are right.
But that doesn't stop me from grieving. I may not stop my life or cry everyday or feel completely and utterly devastated, but the news of your death hurt none the less.
Because I remember the very much a live thirteen year old, sitting behind me in Ms. Bostian's English class and drawing beautiful things for the people around him or just for his amusement.
I remember the beautiful smile full of warmth and humor.
I remember telling you I loved you, with all the serious of an 8th grade girl in awe of someone who was so funny and kindhearted and beautiful inside and out. Because you treated me with Dignity. And Respect. And you were like that to everyone. At thirteen years old you were cognizant of respecting another person.
I remember you signing your name with dollar signs in lieu of the letter S. I wonder now if you continued to do so for the remainder of your life.
I remember wanting you to draw me all the Sailor Scouts and you looked at me like I was crazy and replied, "all of them?"
Never got rid of that silly ass picture. Its dated 1997.
I remember the beautiful poem about your uncle you wrote. It still to this day is one of my favorite poems.
It may seem odd that I remember these seemingly insignificant details about you a decade later. But it doesnt seem so to me.
You were someone I thought very highly of. And over the years sometimes you would pop in my head and I would think you know? he was really cool. Wonder what he's up too?"
Its silly because you would never have remembered me. We werent bosom buddies or anything. You were someone I admired. Someone who's company I enjoyed during the tedium of an 8th grade class.
Somehow it doesn't seem right that you are gone.
I almost wish I didn't know. Because then when I searched my box of memories and came upon the drawing of my favorite sailor scout, I could smile with a nostalgic fondness and say to myself, wonder what he's up to? Take a few moments to remember your bright laughing smile and sincere warmth and put it all back again, content and secure in the fact that you are alive and well and thriving.
Now when I search my box of memories, I come across your drawing and your poem and while I still do the same things I did before, fondly recollecting you and others from my middle school days, it is with a new emotion: sadness.
Because youre no longer here. Because you died. And Im having trouble with it. Im having trouble with it because I can't reconcile you having passed away with the cheerful thirteen year old I knew so many years ago. And it hurts because you of all people, there are few good people in this world and I cant understand why you had to go.
I have never stopped having warm affection for all those I thought of as friends in Middle School. A few I have actually talked to again via facebook including your cousin, one CJ Wilder.
So there you have it. Even though I know you think its weird, that is why your death has caused me pain even though we never spoke after I moved to New York. Now you know why I grieve.
But at the same time, I was one of the ones who got to know you and meet you and talk to you and have one of your drawings. At least I have that. At least I have the memories.
$am $mith,
it was a real pleasure knowing you. You were a gift as a human being and I have no doubt you are a gift in Heaven. As cliche as this sounds, knowing you was a blessing. You helped make my 8th grade year awesome. Even if you didnt really know it.
God bless and keep you. I hope one day we meet again. Then you can draw me ALL the Sailor Scouts. Sailor Moon included. Not just one.
you are probably thinking: "Girl, seriously I haven't seen or heard from you in 13 years."
And you are right.
But that doesn't stop me from grieving. I may not stop my life or cry everyday or feel completely and utterly devastated, but the news of your death hurt none the less.
Because I remember the very much a live thirteen year old, sitting behind me in Ms. Bostian's English class and drawing beautiful things for the people around him or just for his amusement.
I remember the beautiful smile full of warmth and humor.
I remember telling you I loved you, with all the serious of an 8th grade girl in awe of someone who was so funny and kindhearted and beautiful inside and out. Because you treated me with Dignity. And Respect. And you were like that to everyone. At thirteen years old you were cognizant of respecting another person.
I remember you signing your name with dollar signs in lieu of the letter S. I wonder now if you continued to do so for the remainder of your life.
I remember wanting you to draw me all the Sailor Scouts and you looked at me like I was crazy and replied, "all of them?"
Never got rid of that silly ass picture. Its dated 1997.
I remember the beautiful poem about your uncle you wrote. It still to this day is one of my favorite poems.
It may seem odd that I remember these seemingly insignificant details about you a decade later. But it doesnt seem so to me.
You were someone I thought very highly of. And over the years sometimes you would pop in my head and I would think you know? he was really cool. Wonder what he's up too?"
Its silly because you would never have remembered me. We werent bosom buddies or anything. You were someone I admired. Someone who's company I enjoyed during the tedium of an 8th grade class.
Somehow it doesn't seem right that you are gone.
I almost wish I didn't know. Because then when I searched my box of memories and came upon the drawing of my favorite sailor scout, I could smile with a nostalgic fondness and say to myself, wonder what he's up to? Take a few moments to remember your bright laughing smile and sincere warmth and put it all back again, content and secure in the fact that you are alive and well and thriving.
Now when I search my box of memories, I come across your drawing and your poem and while I still do the same things I did before, fondly recollecting you and others from my middle school days, it is with a new emotion: sadness.
Because youre no longer here. Because you died. And Im having trouble with it. Im having trouble with it because I can't reconcile you having passed away with the cheerful thirteen year old I knew so many years ago. And it hurts because you of all people, there are few good people in this world and I cant understand why you had to go.
I have never stopped having warm affection for all those I thought of as friends in Middle School. A few I have actually talked to again via facebook including your cousin, one CJ Wilder.
So there you have it. Even though I know you think its weird, that is why your death has caused me pain even though we never spoke after I moved to New York. Now you know why I grieve.
But at the same time, I was one of the ones who got to know you and meet you and talk to you and have one of your drawings. At least I have that. At least I have the memories.
$am $mith,
it was a real pleasure knowing you. You were a gift as a human being and I have no doubt you are a gift in Heaven. As cliche as this sounds, knowing you was a blessing. You helped make my 8th grade year awesome. Even if you didnt really know it.
God bless and keep you. I hope one day we meet again. Then you can draw me ALL the Sailor Scouts. Sailor Moon included. Not just one.