Friday night I came home at 9:30 to bad news. My dad showed my mom something in the newspaper that almost made her scream. Alex, our 19 year old neighbor, died that morning at 3:45 am from crashing her car. At first I thought I'd thought I heard my mother incorrectly. No, Alex didn't pass away. I saw her last week. This can't be happening.
I was numb. She was one of my best friends growing up. Even though she was three years older than I, we became fast friends when her grandmother moved in across the street from my house. I was in first grade. She was the one who rang our doorbell, asking to play with us. I spent so many summers with her, my brother, and the other neighborhood kids. We filmed stupid movies together, we played video games together, we created recipes together, we made memories together. Even during the school year we'd hang out whenever she was at her grandmother's house (which was just about every day).
Her visitation was this evening. My whole family went, and the church was full of family and friends of Alex. I immediately spotted her grandmother (Leona) and gave her a hug. She's almost 90, but she hugged back with the strength of someone half her age. She had her arm tight around my waist for a few minutes as we talked about Alex and all of our memories. Growing up I didn't just know Alex. I was able to spend time with her whole family. Her house was like a second home to me. I knew where everything was located in the kitchen, I knew how to work the TV, and I spent the night there on occasion. Leona couldn't believe how much I've grown.
Seeing Alex's mother was hard. We were waiting in a line of people to see her and when my family got the the front she looked at me and we immediately hugged. I couldn't stop the tears that came. I cried into her shoulder and we hugged for a good long while. She said that she has so many memories of Alex and I. She also said how much it means to Alex that I was there. I started to cry again.
Another thing at the visitation was a table set up with a lot of Alex's favorite possessions. I could have spotted her pink violin from 100 feet away. I remember the day so many years ago when it got to her house from Ebay and she couldn't stop playing it. It's much dingier now. Another item on the table was a big Scooby Doo stuffed animal. Seeing those things made me absolutely break down. She loved Scooby Doo. I remember seeing pictures she drew of him hung up on the walls of her grandma's house. I remembered so many of the things on the table. It broke my heart so much I had to walk away so I wouldn't start sobbing in front of everyone.
There was a big poster set up for people to write on. I signed it, saying how much we miss her, and how cherished our summer memories are. Other people wrote that they'll miss her smile, and hearing her laugh. People wrote down her nicknames and other inside jokes. She is so loved. She was such a happy person and her smile and laugh were infectious. She was so funny she made me lose control of my bladder on multiple occasions.
I wrote an incredibly personal poem about her passing, and I think I may post it once I have come to terms with this more fully. I still feel like I could see her shoveling snow in front of her grandma's house this Christmas.
EDIT: I've decided I want to post the poem. I wrote it friday night all in one sitting. I wrote and wrote until I felt I had told the story as best as I could. It might not make much sense, but here it is:
I remember it was a Friday night.
Your mom had just dropped you off
at your grandmother’s house after your
dance recital.
You came directly across the street to my house
Face pink from what I assumed was the summer heat
Your body tired from moving to music that
I can’t remember the name of.
You told me you missed your dad.
I never met him. He died before we met.
He and your mother loved you so,
so much. They tried so hard for a baby
and adopted you as a third member of their family
before he died in a tragedy and it’s a
travesty that I cannot remember all of the
details you ever divulged to me. Not that you
liked to talk about it much. Except for that Friday evening.
That night makes me think of popsicles and tears
Sweet and salty but it’s a combination that
creates distress in my hippocampus as
I try to remember why those
Two tastes were so relevant.
You missed him. So, so much. I can’t remember
if you ever got to meet him. But that didn’t stop
the pain from flowing in when you realized he would
never be able to see you perform on stage.
Tears rimmed your water logged eyes
Before the dams eventually burst and your
exquisite round cheeks became the parchment
for pent up retentions of harmful emotions
of some 12 years. Your tears were so salty and
my fingers so sticky from a sweet popsicle
that I’m not sure if I ever really ate. But I do
know that your mascara ran in bleeding tracks
down your flushed cheeks, your voice hiccupping
in and out, telling me, yelling at me, confiding in me.
Love can transcend blood lines and physical ties
That we perceive here on earth.
So imagine my surprise tonight when I came inside
And heard my mom gasp with such terror I cannot
Even bear to turn it into a comparison. She refused to tell me
What was wrong, but I saw the newspaper in her hands.
What was it this time? My mother's haunt was the obituaries,
A product of her affinity for befriending the elderly,
And I assumed her shock had nothing to do with me
Until she refused to divulge the scary, scary information.
We hadn’t talked in years, since you had
Gone to high school and left the roller blades
And bicycles behind. You graduated and shipped yourself
Off an hour away for an enviable education.
F-O-U-R, Four years.
But even the longest time could not have stopped the
Tears that told their own stories down my
Cheeks and parched lips. You died in a car crash,
3:45 am. You lost control of the car, turned the
Steering wheel too far, and were pronounced dead on
The spot. I can’t believe the reality of your fatality,
Just one week ago I saw you packing up your
White jeep, getting ready to go somewhere. I
Can’t bear to imagine what your jeep
Must have looked like when the collision
Occurred. Just 19 years old how could god take
You back home so soon before I got a chance
To make amends and maybe become best friends
Again because you were my answered prayer,
The older sister I never had yet received nonetheless.
God was too gracious to me. How could he take you.
Your poor mother, all alone. Widowed and without
Her only daughter. I fear for what is to come of her.
Alone in my room I’m afraid to feel.
I contemplate the cons of crying when I begin
To smell a familiar scent of fried chicken
That was commonplace in your grandmother’s
Kitchen. I want to get rid of the smell, to forget
The way it tasted, to forget the precious white and blue
China that we ate off of whenever we stopped in
On your family gatherings. I remember your love of garfield,
Breaking an air mattress in your basement, hunting for ghosts,
Destroying an elmo plush before creating a noose for it in my tree,
We probably defaced some public property during our many trips
To the park down the road. I will never forget your halloween parties,
Reading your library books and then having to pay
You back the fines I racked up from keeping them
Just a few weeks too long. I won’t forget trying on
Your old dance costumes and laughing about
How dumb they looked. I won’t forget playing capture
The flag and dumb video games in my unfinished basement
On stormy days. You were a member of my family
For so long, we loved you like our own, letting you
Sleep in our house and see the worst sides of ourselves.
I miss you, I wish I could have said one last thing
To you. But I didn’t know this was coming,
And I suppose neither did you. Because we just kept
On living like we are invincible because
No one got hurt when we skateboarded down carpeted stairs,
Or when we went down steep hills on bikes
Without brakes. I hope you remember me fondly,
as I often still idolize you
in stories I recount to friends,
The memories they never end.
My mother tried to console me,
Attempts to quell my tears with her loving embrace
And when she said, “Honey, she’s in a better place.
She is with her father now.” I lost my grip
On self-control when I realized the girl with
Makeup creating calligraphy on her face
After her dance recital finally got her
One true wish.
You are an official member of my family. You earned so many Pulverenti-Badges. From eating homemade meatballs to getting a pie squished in your face, you are like a sister to me. We love you so much, Alex.
