deatha year ago today the world lost an amazing person. It's hard for me to believe that it's been 3 summers since you and I met and worked together. It was only that one summer you were in my life, but what it lacked in length, it made up for in volume. Working so closely with you was amazing; I was the newbie, the weird New York girl who didn't know a soul and was pawned off on you to tame the rowdy CITs, and instead of leaving me out and only talking to your close friends, you welcomed me in with your warm smile and those beautiful blue eyes and helped me have a great summer in this new setting. I've worked there for 4 summers now, and none have compared to the one you and I spent together. They've all been missing something, and I know for a fact a large part of it is you.
I can't believe how many times you've been with me since you've departed the Earth, Sammy. How did I get so blessed to still get to feel you near me, when I knew you for such a short period of time and other people (like your sister, or high school friends) had you for as many as 18 years? There wasn't a single day the last 12 months that you weren't on my mind, and so many instances that I could feel you around me, so near like we were sweeping the pavement side-by-side and I could see your pitstains
, that tears would well in my eyes when I realized you weren't. -- Every time I see someone diving off the board at the pool, I don't see them, I see you. I see your energy and your SCHS tat and I see the feeling I used to get watching you in your element. Even the bad dives and jumps and flops make me smile in your memory, Superman. Always incredible.
-- Or when I see someone balancing something on their hand, I think of your ridiculous skill in this area, and your even more ridiculous lie about being an ex-circus performer. 'Til the end of my days, I promise not to forget your tricks for how to balance "anything".
-- Suffices to say, I can't listen to most country music without thinking of you. The radio plays an awful lot of Dierks Bentley and Kenny Chesney and Garth Brooks, and I know you have something to do with it, Mr. Sly. When those songs come on, I close my eyes (unless I'm behind the wheel), and I envision you sitting in the seat on the bus on the way to the D.A.R. for our lake day. Absolutely blissful. Of course, Anna Molly by Incubus will always make me think of you, too. I promise you that.
-- I still HATE Napoleon Dynamite, but I also still quote certain bits of it, like "Do the chickens have large talons?!?" and, "You got like THREE feet of air that time". Just for you. Your impressions were dead-on, much better than mine, but I'm doing the best I can.
-- River rafting will always make me think of you. And your crazy shoe collection! "These are my river shoes...these are my hiking shoes ... these are my golfing shoes...". NERD. I STILL just have one pair of general sneakers that I use for everything, thank you very much...but I miss getting to compare them with you nonetheless.
-- Taking hikes in the woods makes me think of you, my little forester. I miss you stopping walking on the trails and letting the kids go ahead while I brought up the rear so you could show me different plants I could eat; I would love some wild cucumbers if you get a chance, Sam. They were delicious. I'll be on the lookout for Jewelweed, and I forgive you for letting me walk through that patch of poision ivy and then jogging up to me to say, "hey Emily, that was poison ivy youjust went through". Still think you could have stopped me before it happened, but... big picture.
-- I went for a walk with my co-teacher and aide and student in June, Sam, and she took us through 'The Purple Forest', so of course, I thought of you, and actually cried quietly on the trail as we walked along. If I give in, if I pretend the trees look slightly purple and end that ridiculous argument, will you come back to us?
**If you just sat through reading me type through my tears, you're brave. But now you also owe me. You have to go to at least one person who means this much to you as he did to me...and tell them. Before it's too late. Because I can write this as much as I want, and mean it as much as I do, but he's still gone. Unless there really is a listening section in Heaven, he'll never know. And I hate it.
