Well I just got back from the viewing of my friend who passed away this Saturday. Wish I could say that I was okay but secretly Im not. See, in high school I was bullied. Bad. Sennie was the kind of person who stuck up for the little guy even though she was considered to be popular and hung out with the cool kids. Labels and stereotypes didnt stop her from being kind with everyone and supportive when you needed it. One day in particular, a boy broke a necklace I was wearing as he pulled on the chain until it snapped. I was really upset because my mom gave me the necklace. It had my birthstone pendant on it and I was sure she was going to be sooo upset because of course everything is a big deal when youre in high school. I was able to recover the pendant but the necklace was beyond repair. It was also one of the first real pieces of jewelry Id ever owned being 24k gold, chain and all. Sennie saw me crying in the locker room at gym and, as all good friends do, asked me if I was okay and why I was crying. I told her... so she gave me her necklace to wear. She told me that I could have it until I got mine fixed. She told me, Its not the same but itll help. I vowed that I would give it back but it was forgotten as the years passed and soon we graduated and took separate paths. So tonight when I went to the viewing, I met with Sennies mom for the first time. I told her mom the story and showed her the necklace. She cooed over it for a moment and then took my arm and we walked over to Sennie laying so peacefully. Her mom gave me the necklace and told me Id best give it back then. So I nodded my head and I laid the pendant near her hand and the chain in her grasp. I thanked her mom for letting me do so, gave the traditional Im sorry for your loss. and then I went into the next room and cried like a three year old who just ran out of lollipops. I watched a slideshow of Sennie, pictures in chronological order from birth to the most recent before she died. I sat and wondered, What happened? What happened to you? She wasnt the friend I knew in high school. Her life had taken a different path entirely. Paths any of us could easily have taken but for some reason or another, didnt. Answers I need, yet know Ill never have. And so here I am, 3 beers and tear stains in my make up. Trying to remember the good times but all I can see is her face... asleep forever and lying in a cold box. Were you scared, Sennie, when you were dying? Did you even know you were dying? Or maybe you did it on purpose because of some evil hurt that you felt no one cared. Did you think no one cared about you? Did you think wed be better off if you were gone? This time, my friend, you were wrong. At least I finally gave her back her necklace. To quote my friend who said it long ago, Its not the same, but itll help.
Posted on: Wed, 09 Apr 2014 01:24:09 +0000
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