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My Best Friend, my Hero on Memorial Day
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My Best Friend, my Hero on Memorial Day |
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Sadelite Member Elite
since 2003-10-11
Posts 2519 |
To them, she was just the girl of conversation, while they were lined up in their rank and files. What was all the whispering rumble, I’d wondered as I checked for dust on my white bucks. Then slowly from the rear, the news met Rank #8, and heat became intolerable. I’d heard the news a few minutes before the Memorial Day parade, but thought I’d rest upon it, holding it within. Since she’d been ill so long, no one in junior high would know my friend. . The situation had taken me by surprise a few years earlier leaving me helpless. You see, I had been alone since forever, before Cindy came, but not really. I had the animals, my parents, and the lane of Spring Daffodils, and don’t forget those dolls… Ah, hour upon hour, they’d spring to life a friend-a plastic friend, that would say the right words and take adventures, no matter the risks. Then, like a gift from God, “she” moved across the road. Not only she, but her two brothers, one a year older and one to her junior, who soon came to be known as “The Pest.” All was perfect in the rural neighborhood from the third grade to fifth. Danny had Charlie and Cindy had me, and everyone experienced that pesty little brother! We were always up to antics of mud making and throwing, climbing trees, and building forts, the Boys against the Girls. (The Girls always won…) To strengthen our bond, we formed a secret club, with pledges inked upon fall leaves, brilliantly used, camouflaging secret oaths and codes just in case “the Boys” happened upon our clubhouse. ( One leaf still remains wrapped in a white tissue in my desk, though fragile in its brittle state; it must be close to forty years old). As we grew into another grade, we began to separate some, not really to my liking, but more of a tolerance. Still after school, Cindy and I shared long walks down the gravel driveways, discussing new weights and those embarrassing “budding” years and plans of careers… Cindy’s was to be a stewardess, flying high in the air, meeting all the handsome pilots, while mine was to read Christmas poems to little kids and grade papers. . For a while, Cindy wore a size eight woman’s shoe, carried 118 pounds, and had everything going for her; she was a beauty with her thick long hair, gently swirling with the movement of her well developed eleven year old body. But you see, the body became a problem. It seems the bruises from P.E. were not ordinary bruises on Cindy’s healthy looking legs. Before I knew it, my best friend rested in a hospital, with only one leg. One might think I cried and begged to see my friend. I did neither. Life continued on, sliding through junior high. I remember “the project” in Home Ec. Our teacher invited those who wished to make a pillow for the little girl with the amputated leg. I couldn’t volunteer anything, not even say she had been my best friend. I cowered. My mother told me I had to confront it sometime. She had prearranged a hospital visit. My dread was horrendous. How could I act naturally? What would I say? What if she asked me to take a look? It wasn’t as bad as I’d first thought. She smiled at me when I entered the room, almost as if she sensed my embarrassment. We joked around and she came alive as the little girl I knew across the road. Before I left, she just had to ask me to see her leg. I made it through with small-talk and nervous laughter, but all the time, I was thinking, “Now you can’t fly. Your dreams, smashed!" Things went better for a while, and Cindy became more active. I remember that she had made a short lime green skirt and a beautifully stitched pink blouse for 4-h. I had made my little outfit too, and was scared to death to model it on stage, but when Cindy modeled hers down the runway, I was finally taken by her courage. She was happy just to be alive, to be herself, to have accomplished what she had …And it didn’t appear to matter to her that she walked with a limp or had a wooden leg that clunked the hollow stage with every step. I wasn’t afraid to call her my friend any longer or embarrassed by what people could say. About a year later came Memorial day and that horrible parade when we marched to the cemetery. The hardest part was standing in position, hearing rumors that “the kid with the wooden leg” had died. I just wanted to scream out, “You didn’t even know her name!” How could they be sharing her death when they hadn’t shared her life. They didn't know her COURAGE or her life's dream. I did. Although she never filled out that job application at the airlines, my bet would be that she got her wings even though she was only eleven. [This message has been edited by Sadelite (01-25-2004 07:17 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2004 Sadelite - All Rights Reserved | |||
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
C -- I am crying. You know, I was thinking about her all last night and wondering if you would ever write about her. This was so wonderfully written, really, and I'm sure she is somewhere smiling. |
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Sadelite Member Elite
since 2003-10-11
Posts 2519 |
Had we spoken about her? I don't recall doing such... Sorry, I got you all teary eyed. I didn't expect you to be reading prose, as you usually do the poetry. Now, you can laugh back @ me. I've read this about four times since you and I cry every time. Funny I couldn't cry back then... ~Sadie~ [This message has been edited by Sadelite (01-24-2004 08:25 PM).] |
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Endlessecho Member
since 2003-09-05
Posts 398I live within myself |
Wow. You really have a way with words. So beautifully written. Your writing in so in tune with your feelings. I can't wait to get to that point. It must be difficult to share something so close to you. You did so beautifully. Thank you. |
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Sadelite Member Elite
since 2003-10-11
Posts 2519 |
Endlessecho, You overwhelmingly flatter me! This piece just happened the way it did because I felt the situation so deeply. (Not because of skill). I'm sure that you have those heartfelt writes that I would envy! Anyway, thank you for making my day. I'm glad someone else got to meet my friend, Cindy. Sadelite |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Sadelite, Yup, good writing and a story that is good for telling. Life can be sobering but it sure teaches us well. Nicely done... If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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Jeffrey Carter
since 2000-04-08
Posts 2367State of constant confusion! |
First, let me say  Thank you for sharing this story and that little intimate part of you. It isn't everyday that we get to see someone's heart, but you certainly painted a picture of yours with this piece.This was a masterful piece of story-telling! The way the words just flow off the page and across the tongue is simply amazing. If you haven't done so already, you may want to think about submitting this to a spiritual magazine, I'd be willing to bet they'd snatch it up very quickly. |
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merlynh Member
since 1999-09-26
Posts 411deer park, wa |
This was very touching and a tribute for your admiration for your friend. Very heart felt, thanks for sharing. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
How did I miss this? And...now... Now I know where your musical ability comes from! Your words sing... |
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