One of Us

I gasped when I learned of your death.  No!  You were one of us.  We grew up together in this little town down South.  All of us, full of dreams and nonsense, were children together.   We played on the same playgrounds and played the same games.  We ate the same food and learned the same lessons.  We shared so many classes.  We bought records at Debbie's or Malta's Record shop.  My friends and I were in love with David Cassidy.  In 1972 we were ten years old.  We went to Woolworth's on Saturday and if we were really lucky we got to eat one of those hamburgers they made.



You weren't the first to go.  There were others that went before.  But I was too fearful to ask the questions.   Did you go to all the places you dreamed of going?  Did you do all the wondrous things that you wanted to do?  Were you happy?  Did you know that would be your final day?

Like a brother or sister we grew up knowing and witnessing our journey to adulthood.  Never having to speak a word to one another there is a kinship, a connection.

Can we hold on to the dreams where we knew we could do whatever we wanted for the rest of our lives?   Can we believe that our lives will go on and on, never ending.  Didn't we all feel that?  Wasn't that the plan?  Why didn't life let you play by the make believe rules?

Now when we do meet again it may be a little harder to see ourselves as the kids we were in school.  We may have to search in each face a little harder but the child is still there.  We knew each other as children and each one of us are apart of a puzzle that represents the faces of our childhood.  Does it draw you to the mirror?  Do we have to let go of the dreams?  Can we still believe that we will be whatever we want to be?  Can we believe that time will stand still?   Can we still believe that all of us will be outside at recess together?  Can't we, one more time?

So long my friend.


Jan