God put a smile upon your face

**Please note, my spelling is horrendous in this blog** Thanks (:

Last night I decided to get the under-the-bed storage container out that has been sitting under there for a good few years. As of late, the container has become unclosable (is that even a word?) so things get pushed out when my cats go under the bed. Then they unvaribly begin messing with said item and it ends up torn or scratched or in some cases ruined. Torn? Scratched? That is because many of the things in this container are newspapers, magazines, etc. I have saved magazines about Baby Jessica, OJ, the Oklahoma City Bombing, 9/11, Phil Hartman, Princess Diana, Susan Smith, JFK Jr., Verginia Tech. Things that have happened in the last 14 years of so that were significant to either me or us as a nation. I have saved Flint Journal articles from Kayla Rolland, the death of Ja’nets cousin Kristen Gregus, Kristin Spencer’s death, Amanda Siner’s death, Princess Diana, Mother Theresa. My God, that’s a lot of death! Anyway, I saved these things because they meant something to me. Back in 1993, it’s not like eBay was around, so it’s not as if I was looking to profit off of these things. But, it is nice to go back in time and look through what I have saved.

I also discovered lots of miscellaneous things: letters from a 7 year old Angelica, a napkin from my quinceañeara, copies of the DHS paper “The Innavator” (including my front page article!), my 5th grade memory book, report cards from middle school & high school, poems I wrote in Mrs. Lubert’s class in 6th grade, papers I wrote my senior year of high school in Bickersteth’s class, and papers from my first semester in college. Oh, and I also found a letter which must have been written in December 1999 from Mr. O’Connell, when he was living in Cuba. It’s funny to think that nearly 9 years ago, people wrote letters and not email!

I went through and read a lot of the papers that I had written in high school. In looking back on those papers, they seemed to share a common theme: death. It’s not as if I was a dark person, it’s just that death really had a toll on me those last 2.5 years of high school. My grandpa died when I was 15 – during the fall semester of my sophomore year. It turned my world upside down…I had never dealt with the death of someone so close to me, someone who was so entirely selfless. And being the complete opposite – a selfish, self-centered 15 year old - I didn’t realize what a wonderful person my grandpa was – what a blessing he was to my family – until after he died. I struggled a lot. I wrote poems about his death tearing us apart as a family, about the guilt I felt for not showing him my love. I wrote a paper about missing him and everything about him from his scratchy mustache to his willingness to rub my feet whenever I put them into his lap. Losing someone like that, you cannot be prepared, you cannot simply go on with life. In years – yes, life will resume – but not for a time afterwards. At the time I think it just seemed natural to me to write about death, because it was a very consuming thing back in my life. I just can’t help but wonder if my teachers thought I had a problem!

It has always been my firm belief that although losing my grandpa was tough – I was with him when he died, and he was only 61 – the death of Kristin was so much harder. Nothing can prepare you for the death of a grandparent. But to think of losing a 20 year old, healthy friend is completely incomprehensible. It wrecked me like nothing else wrecked me in my whole life. There is nothing else you can compare it to. I will be the first to admit that Kristin and I were not exceptionally close during the last year of her life. But she was one of those people that I could just call and ask to go to dinner, and we would pick up right where we left off. One of my favorite memories is sleeping in Erin Carriere’s bed in the room her & Kristin shared at Knollwood at WMU and just staying up late talking. We had gone to a basketball game and to dinner at Friday’s that day and were just chatting. Forget that I lived less than 2 miles away – I stayed the night with her. And I will forever be thankful for that memory. We talked about her sister, her eagerness to become an aunt, what our futures would be like.

When Kristin died, I found it hard to do anything. I just wanted to sleep because then I could avoid the reality of the situation. I remember her in her casket with a cardigan and skirt on, and that beautiful blonde hair of hers. I looked closely at the scar on her cheek that she’d had ever since I knew her, but I sorely missed the dimple that was always present because that girl was always smiling. I felt an ache in my heart that with all honesty, I hope I never feel again. We are approaching next month 7 years since Kristin died, but it is still so fresh.

I’m sorry, I’m being depressing here. But finding these things brought back so many memories – most of which are honestly not all that pleasant. One last thing that I will mention that I found last night: my “agenda book” (remember those, DHS kids?!) from 12th grade. Miss Latessa made us watch this movie where Fred Savage beat the crap out of DJ Tanner (er, Candace Cameron) his high school girlfriend. One part of the movie is where DJ gets into Fred’s car and he says real rough and quickly, “You look good. Get in.” Kristin and I used to say that to each other ALL THE TIME. We thought it was hilarious!

So here’s to you, Kristin: You look good, get in!

And to you, grandpa: Grandpa, tell me ‘bout the good old days.

I love you both.

And to all you blog readers:

"Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Listen hard. Practice wellness. Play with abandon. Laugh. Choose with no regret. Appreciate your friends. Continue to learn. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is." -Mary Anne Radmacher