Cheers

An interesting thing happened today. My Grandpa called my dad with the news that someone had died of cancer. I had no idea who this person was, though her name sounded vaguely familiar. It might have been Tammy Prince of Pam something-with-a-D, I'm not certain. All I know is that when my dad told my mom, they were both shocked by the fact that she had died - she was only a year younger than my dad, meaning she was two and a half years younger than my mom. I was equally as shocked, but for a completely different reason.

This woman that died three years ago was one of my dad's former girlfriends. She dumped him sometime during High School to date his best friend. The best friend and this girl later married and my dad moved on and found my mom - much to my joy and relief. But her youth or her relationshp with my father wasn't what shocked me - my dad and mom often talk about their former "significant others" which is why I recognized her name. What shocked me was that my dad remembered her.

He remembered her.

You will go through life, and 99% of the people you meet you won't remember in a few years. You will not remember most in a few months or weeks, possibly even days. But then there are those that touch you deeply, that you will remember twenty years after your last encounter with them. They are the girlfriends, the boy friends, the best friends, people who - when they leave or situations change - leave places in your heart that can never be filled exactly the same by any other person, not matter how special those people are. They are people who are irreplacable.

I still remember a true story someone told me once, about a woman who was best friends with a guy. They were as close and close can be, but something happened that caused them to get in a huge row and not talk again. The girl later married, and while she loved her husband and wouldn't trade him for anyone else, there were still some times when she felt the need for that best friend to be there, for his kind of comfort and advice.

And so it is whenever you get close to someone. You give a peice of yourself to them, and whether you realize it or not, you're never going to get that peice back. They will carry it with them forever, so until, twenty-five years down the road, you get a call telling that they died of cancer, and you realize what they were, their significance in your life, that a peice of you was still with them.

How many people have a given a peice of myself to? How many more will carry a little chunk of me around with them while they go collect others? How many peices do I have, possibly taken carelessly by someone who gave tenderly?

I'm not egotistical enough to think that I'm a memorable person. I know that three or four years down the road, most of the people in, say, choir won't remember a single thing about me, including my name. When I die, the world probably won't mourn, there won't be thousands at my funeral. But I do know that there will be friends from Ontario talking about my exploits in band, the Nielsens will talk about growing up in Lansing and playing tree-tag, my friends now will talk about how I always fell asleep during movies and had an obsession with cuddling. Who knows what else will be said by that 1% of people who will touch and shape my life, the people that I allowed close enough to take something memorable from my existence?

So, here's my oopah, to the best friends, the boyfriends, the enemies turned friend. You will be remembered. Cheers to you. May your lives be blessed.

-Jillian