Ana was 12
I went to the cemetery yesterday to visit my friend Ana. Ana was a month shy of 13 when she died, we were in the 8th grade, her mother accidentally ran her over with a water truck.
I met Ana when we were in the 2nd grade, I was new to school and she was nice to me. She was the only person I had ever met who was shorter then me and I always made sure to rub it in. We remained friendly until the day she died. She had the longest hair I had ever seen and whenever she was around I'd braid it or put it in a bun or find some way to fiddle with it.
Ana came from a family of little means but lots of love. She wore hand-me-down clothes and well worn sneakers, wasn't able to bathe as frequently as others but couldn't be happier despite her difficulties. She was sweet to everyone around her, I don't think I'd ever seen her angry or annoyed even, she was a beautiful person.
Ana and I were never best friends, but we had classes together so we spoke everyday. But then middle school started and peer pressure hit and Ana and I stopped talking everyday, every now and then I'd see her in the hall and say "what's up" but that was the extent of it.
My middle school friends came from middle or upper class families, mine included, families that had never known what it was like to not have running water, to shop at goodwill out of neccessity or to literally not have money for a friday night trip to the movies. Ana didn't fit into that and so that made being friends with her difficult for this 12 year old little girl.
I'll never forget that day, I walked into school 10 mins before the first bell and ran into a teacher who was looking for my boyfriend at the time Daniel, Daniel and Ana were really good friends, their parents knew each other. I told her I didn't know where he was and continued on to my locker to get my books. I spent a few minutes with my friends before class started and then headed to class, in the beginning of class we always read for 20 mins and then started the day. As we were reading on this day my teacher interrupted us and said that there had been a death overnight, as a 7th grader I had never experienced death, immediately my stomach tightened up and my heart started pounding, "a 7th grader named Ana Guiterrez died last night, there are grief counselors available if anyone needs to talk about anything" I didn't get it, I continued my book, then it started setting in.
All of a sudden I couldn't breath. My heart was racing. I felt tears on my cheeks. I didn't want anyone to see me cry so I got up to grab a tissue from the back of the class, when I got there Keshia was there too and she was hysterical, that did it, all the composure I was exhibiting went out the window and I completely broke down. We told our teacher that we needed to see a counselor and she pointed us to the room off of the auditorium, the impromptu "crisis room" when we got there it was already pretty full. I grabbed Daniel who was a total mess and we just cried, once we got it together slightly we talked about Ana and how wonderful she was, we wrote letters to her that she would never receive, we organized memorials for her and set up a "shrine" at her locker.
The next day was no better, I went to school but didn't go to class, instead I went back to the crisis room and grieved a little more, it was nice to have my friends around me and to have us all working towards trying to honor Ana. That night after school was her first viewing, my friend Brenna and I went together thankfully, I doubt I could have handled it on my own. I had never been to a funeral much less a viewing, seeing that little casket was so wrong, they shouldn't make caskets that small. Ana looked beautiful, she was dressed up and her hair was done but it couldn't distract me from the bruises and scrapes and the fact she was missing an ear. This sweet little girl had died a violent death, she didn't go fast and painless, she suffered and she fought and she lost. It wasn't fair. I reached out and grabbed her hand and she was cold and waxy and not my Ana and it was a shock to my system. I left confused and sad and angry, confused that I had just seen her a few days before and sad that I would never be able to tease her again and angry that she was taken.
At her funeral a few days later it was literally standing room only, everyone was there, we took a car full of my friends at the time and I saw teachers and community members and people who loved Ana and I was so proud. Proud that she had touched so many lives and proud that I was able to call her a friend and proud that she had made an impact. I've never forgotten her, I visit her occasionally and bring her little odds and ends and just sit with her and tell her about my life and grieve and cry that she never got to experience life, she never got her first kiss, she never got to drive, or go to prom or graduate high school. She'll never get married or be a mom or a grandma, and it hurts and it's tragic and it's not fair. But I feel like I owe it to her to make the most of my time in the world, and not live life afraid but embrace it and tackle it head on and every time I succeed, I succeed for her and every time I fail I brush myself off and try again because she'd hate me if I didn't.
I miss Ana everyday, and though she doesn't cross my mind on a daily basis anymore, when she does the grief is still fresh and it still stops me in my tracks and I still wonder what she'd be like if she had gotten the chance to grow up.
I met Ana when we were in the 2nd grade, I was new to school and she was nice to me. She was the only person I had ever met who was shorter then me and I always made sure to rub it in. We remained friendly until the day she died. She had the longest hair I had ever seen and whenever she was around I'd braid it or put it in a bun or find some way to fiddle with it.
Ana came from a family of little means but lots of love. She wore hand-me-down clothes and well worn sneakers, wasn't able to bathe as frequently as others but couldn't be happier despite her difficulties. She was sweet to everyone around her, I don't think I'd ever seen her angry or annoyed even, she was a beautiful person.
Ana and I were never best friends, but we had classes together so we spoke everyday. But then middle school started and peer pressure hit and Ana and I stopped talking everyday, every now and then I'd see her in the hall and say "what's up" but that was the extent of it.
My middle school friends came from middle or upper class families, mine included, families that had never known what it was like to not have running water, to shop at goodwill out of neccessity or to literally not have money for a friday night trip to the movies. Ana didn't fit into that and so that made being friends with her difficult for this 12 year old little girl.
I'll never forget that day, I walked into school 10 mins before the first bell and ran into a teacher who was looking for my boyfriend at the time Daniel, Daniel and Ana were really good friends, their parents knew each other. I told her I didn't know where he was and continued on to my locker to get my books. I spent a few minutes with my friends before class started and then headed to class, in the beginning of class we always read for 20 mins and then started the day. As we were reading on this day my teacher interrupted us and said that there had been a death overnight, as a 7th grader I had never experienced death, immediately my stomach tightened up and my heart started pounding, "a 7th grader named Ana Guiterrez died last night, there are grief counselors available if anyone needs to talk about anything" I didn't get it, I continued my book, then it started setting in.
All of a sudden I couldn't breath. My heart was racing. I felt tears on my cheeks. I didn't want anyone to see me cry so I got up to grab a tissue from the back of the class, when I got there Keshia was there too and she was hysterical, that did it, all the composure I was exhibiting went out the window and I completely broke down. We told our teacher that we needed to see a counselor and she pointed us to the room off of the auditorium, the impromptu "crisis room" when we got there it was already pretty full. I grabbed Daniel who was a total mess and we just cried, once we got it together slightly we talked about Ana and how wonderful she was, we wrote letters to her that she would never receive, we organized memorials for her and set up a "shrine" at her locker.
The next day was no better, I went to school but didn't go to class, instead I went back to the crisis room and grieved a little more, it was nice to have my friends around me and to have us all working towards trying to honor Ana. That night after school was her first viewing, my friend Brenna and I went together thankfully, I doubt I could have handled it on my own. I had never been to a funeral much less a viewing, seeing that little casket was so wrong, they shouldn't make caskets that small. Ana looked beautiful, she was dressed up and her hair was done but it couldn't distract me from the bruises and scrapes and the fact she was missing an ear. This sweet little girl had died a violent death, she didn't go fast and painless, she suffered and she fought and she lost. It wasn't fair. I reached out and grabbed her hand and she was cold and waxy and not my Ana and it was a shock to my system. I left confused and sad and angry, confused that I had just seen her a few days before and sad that I would never be able to tease her again and angry that she was taken.
At her funeral a few days later it was literally standing room only, everyone was there, we took a car full of my friends at the time and I saw teachers and community members and people who loved Ana and I was so proud. Proud that she had touched so many lives and proud that I was able to call her a friend and proud that she had made an impact. I've never forgotten her, I visit her occasionally and bring her little odds and ends and just sit with her and tell her about my life and grieve and cry that she never got to experience life, she never got her first kiss, she never got to drive, or go to prom or graduate high school. She'll never get married or be a mom or a grandma, and it hurts and it's tragic and it's not fair. But I feel like I owe it to her to make the most of my time in the world, and not live life afraid but embrace it and tackle it head on and every time I succeed, I succeed for her and every time I fail I brush myself off and try again because she'd hate me if I didn't.
I miss Ana everyday, and though she doesn't cross my mind on a daily basis anymore, when she does the grief is still fresh and it still stops me in my tracks and I still wonder what she'd be like if she had gotten the chance to grow up.