When I was in kindergarten (for non US people that is the initial class year starting your formal school education) there was a girl in my class who was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I had a crush on her from the word go. I missed the whole "see spot run" part of kindergarten thinking about her. Little did I know she developed the same crush for me...
By the time we got to the 4th grade we were considered boyfriend and girlfriend. I would walk her home everyday, our parents became very good friends and she was about the only thing I could think about. Even when I started playing football at the age of 8 all I could think about was doing good so that she would be happy that I was. My school day began with meeting her to walk to school and carrying her books and ended with me walking her home carrying her books every single day. I say now we were b/f and g/f but we really had no concept of that back then...it was just what we did. Other than the guys I played basketball and football with she was my best friend.
By the time we were about 10 (five years of knowing her) I had learned things like starting fires with twigs and flaking to make stone knives from my ******. I would then teach her and she would get almost better at it than I was. She was the prettiest tomboy in a dress you could ever imagine. By this time I moved from the C team in Jr. league football to the B team age group. She became a cheerleader for the team I played on. She was one of the fiercest supporters of our team and it always seemed like she cheered the loudest and jumped the highest whenever we did something good. After the games our parents would take us with our brothers and sisters to get McDonalds or Buger King and all she would talk about is what happened during the games...good and bad.
A year later she got sick... I later learned she was diagnosed with stomach cancer. At the time I didn't know what any of it meant other than she was sick and couldn't go to school anymore. I remember going to the hospital visiting her and wondering when she was going to get better. Then everyone was visiting her and teachers were talking about her during classes and everyone was talking about her before and after the games.
Eventually our parents got her ****** and my brothers and ****** together before we went to the hospital and told us in pretty frank terms that she wasn't going to get better. The reality never sank in with me that not getting better didn't mean just staying in the hospital but that she was going to die until she died about 3 weeks later. All I can remember is being physically sick and in almost unbearable pain. I cried almost every other day for at least a month and I couldn't understand anything about how something like that was allowed to happen. To me, the doctors were supposed to fix her...as far as I knew...that's what they were suppose to do.
When she died that was/is the lowest point so far in my life. I know my life has been enriched for the short time she was in it.
By the time we got to the 4th grade we were considered boyfriend and girlfriend. I would walk her home everyday, our parents became very good friends and she was about the only thing I could think about. Even when I started playing football at the age of 8 all I could think about was doing good so that she would be happy that I was. My school day began with meeting her to walk to school and carrying her books and ended with me walking her home carrying her books every single day. I say now we were b/f and g/f but we really had no concept of that back then...it was just what we did. Other than the guys I played basketball and football with she was my best friend.
By the time we were about 10 (five years of knowing her) I had learned things like starting fires with twigs and flaking to make stone knives from my ******. I would then teach her and she would get almost better at it than I was. She was the prettiest tomboy in a dress you could ever imagine. By this time I moved from the C team in Jr. league football to the B team age group. She became a cheerleader for the team I played on. She was one of the fiercest supporters of our team and it always seemed like she cheered the loudest and jumped the highest whenever we did something good. After the games our parents would take us with our brothers and sisters to get McDonalds or Buger King and all she would talk about is what happened during the games...good and bad.
A year later she got sick... I later learned she was diagnosed with stomach cancer. At the time I didn't know what any of it meant other than she was sick and couldn't go to school anymore. I remember going to the hospital visiting her and wondering when she was going to get better. Then everyone was visiting her and teachers were talking about her during classes and everyone was talking about her before and after the games.
Eventually our parents got her ****** and my brothers and ****** together before we went to the hospital and told us in pretty frank terms that she wasn't going to get better. The reality never sank in with me that not getting better didn't mean just staying in the hospital but that she was going to die until she died about 3 weeks later. All I can remember is being physically sick and in almost unbearable pain. I cried almost every other day for at least a month and I couldn't understand anything about how something like that was allowed to happen. To me, the doctors were supposed to fix her...as far as I knew...that's what they were suppose to do.
When she died that was/is the lowest point so far in my life. I know my life has been enriched for the short time she was in it.
