Clay's Blog

• Rest in Peace My Angel

  11/16/06 7 Comments

  I love you and I miss you.

  Those words keep running though my head. It’s the one thing I want to tell you. I can’t believe it’s been a year since you’ve been gone. It still hurts to think about and I don’t think that will ever go away. You’re on my mind always. Sometimes, it’s happy and sometimes, it hurts.

  I still remember the exact moment when I found out that you were gone. I still can’t grasp it and I wonder if I ever will. The pain that I felt in my chest at that moment was the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. There are times when I don’t know what it is, but it offsets the pain and the tears. The term “broken heart” can’t be taken to too lightly, because that’s exactly how it felt. It felt like it was just ripping in two. I couldn’t breathe and I just didn’t want to be in my body at that moment.

  When I got heard the news, I was on the road. We had to pull over. I didn’t want to believe what I had heard. There had to be a misunderstanding, some form of miscommunication. But it was your middle name read in the obituary that confirmed what was to be determined the worst day of my life. It was a day that part of me had been ripped from this earth.

  You were my first friend that I had ever made. Diaper buddies from the beginning. Even in my Senior yearbook, you mentioned the diapers. We went though our age of innocence together. There were many, many Summers of Vacation Bible School, swimming, getting shakes at Petrik’s drugstore, dancing to music even when we sang our own… “Everybody dance now!”, playing in the hose or sprinkler, wishing when all the digits on the clocks were the same, birthday parties… all of them, eating our favorite food Spaghetti O’s, you teaching me how to cook Ramen noodles, talking about boys, taking baths together, dreaming of one day having a class together, moonlight jumps on the trampoline, playing in Rusty’s doghouse. I remember when your sister was born and how proud you were to be a big sister, and with that came the nickname “Sissy”. I met my first boyfriend, William, through you. Do you remember when we sprayed the mailmen with the hose? Your dad yelled at us and the sensitive souls that we were, felt so badly. I remember the red crayon that we put in your light fixture from your bunk bed. It melted and we got in trouble… again. What the heck were we thinking? The days of truth or dare. You helping me get in my bridesmaid’s dress from my sister’s wedding. I have those pictures still back in the dressing room of you helping me put on my shoes. Finally, our Senior year, we had English together. I remember exactly where you had sat in the room. I sat on one side and you on other and we faced each other. I remember the goofy faces you would make and how you would bunch your hair up on the top of your head and lean against the wall. There are little things that remind me of you constantly… the digits on the clock, when I use the flat iron that I bought from you, and when I wink. You know the story with that one.

  I just often wonder why God would take such a precious thing out of this world. Someone who was changing lives on a daily basis and EVERYONE loved. It’s easy to argue that you just simply had to leave so soon. I guess I can understand that it was your time to go home. But it’s the way that you were forced out of this world that makes it SO hard. I don’t understand. The way you left was horrible. You were scared, in pain, and basically hunted down like it was a game. I’ll never understand that. If that’s one question that I have for God, it’s that. Why this way? On the news, they interviewed a neighbor that had heard everything and to hear her say she heard gun shots and a woman crying and screaming is something that I can’t get out of my head. When we were watching that, you mom said so sadly, “That was my baby.” I won’t ever forget that. Also during your funeral, they played the song “Who You’d Be Today” by Kenny Chesney and there’s a lyric that goes, “I wonder what would you name your babies” and your mom let out this wail, this horrible, heart-wrenching cry that I will never be able to get out of my head. It’s got to be the worst sound in the world. And that’s another thing that hurts. I always thought that our kids would grow up together. I was wondering which one of us was going to have babies first or were we going to have them at the same time. I look back to the pictures of my sister’s wedding day and I remember thinking that day, how you were going to be wearing a dress and standing next to me the day of my wedding. I just always knew.

  It’s like your spirit is still SO strong inside me. I can still see the faces you make and hear your speaking voice and laughter. It just makes it so hard to believe that a whole year has gone by. Back in April, I was at your house. Your mom and sister were gone and I was there to help Nikki with some homework. While I was waiting on them, I just sat on your couch and took in the familiar smells and I was waiting for you to walk in the living room from the hallway and it never happened. It was hard to grasp.

  This year we came to visit you on your birthday. We sang for you and I wonder if you heard us. Damn, that was tough. I would have liked to have seen the candles illuminating your face instead of looking at the cold, dry ground.

  I went to his trial earlier this year and it was SO hard to look at him. He was just this small little person and seemingly soulless life. The emotion I felt is something I can’t explain. Pain or anger, pain and anger. But mostly a feeling of weakness. When they read the charges, they were words I never, ever wanted to hear. When they mentioned the other victims it was hard, but when they mentioned your wounds and your full name, I felt like I was in a nightmare.

  I’m going to OU now. It’s the school that we were born and bred for. I’m taking each day and trying to make it better than the last. I hope to make you proud and I won’t stop working hard until I get what I want. I’ll be thinking of you along the way and keeping you close.

  I love you and I miss you. Amanda

  P.S- Remember what you signed in my Senior yearbook? I had a blast growing up with you too.

  

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