Ok, I have been totally slacking on my blog posts this week. I’m kind of mad at myself for missing my Wishful Wednesday post too. I mean I had written something really private and touching out, but somehow never got around to typing and posting it. Yes, I still prewrite the old fashion way with a notepad and a pen. Somehow, I just feel like my thoughts flow more naturally without the click and clack of the key board to disturb me. Not to mention, I can’t see all those red lines that lets me know how bad my spelling has gotten since I graduated from JWU.
Anyways, I will back next Wednesday with my Wishful post. But today, was just wonderful. I love, love, love family. And mine is the coolest. We have our moments when we can stand each other like everybody else, but at the end of the day we love each other to death. And today was a cause for celebration. My niece, Miss O, graduated from Pre-K!!!
Yes, it’s very exciting I know. Just being back in that school made a rush of memories explode in my head. I remember going to Pre-K and Kindergarten there and my graduation. Although, my graduation from Pre-K was bittersweet. I was excited because I was moving up and becoming a big kid, but sad as looked at the empty chair next to me where my first best friend was suppose to be. During our Spring Break, he was killed in a hit and run accident down the street and around the corner from where I lived.
My parents knew I would be heart broken and couldn’t break the news to me. So, my aunt, who was also my teacher, told me the last day of our Spring Break. I was devastated. Actually, I was beyond devastated. For two days I turned into a mute and couldn’t go home. So, I stayed with my other aunt (Lill), who was my 2nd mommy, for a week. I remember her asking me if I wanted to go to the funeral and I shook my head no.
She asked if I was sure and said that she didn’t want me to regret it later. I still said no. Over the course of the school year, Bill had become more than my first bff. He was the first boy I kissed and fell head over heals in love with. Yes, I was in love at the ripe age of 5. LOL. I can’t explain it, but I was very intelligent and mature for my 5 years of age. Somehow, I knew it was love that I felt for him and that it was different from the love that I felt for my other friends, my family and my parents.
And the fact that he was white and I was black with a mixture of Native American and white didn’t matter to us. Probably because we were kids and we both had parents who didn’t see color but people and raised us the same. To this day, I don’t regret not going to Bill’s funeral. I know that he wants me to remember him the way was and not have that image tainted by death. Years later when I was junior high school, I penned a few poems in memory of him for my English class. Even now that I’m older, have a child of my own and somewhat of a relationship with another man who has captured my heart, I still find myself thinking of my departed friend.
I wonder what if he would have lived? Would have been high school sweethearts? Hell, would our love have even survived past the summer before our Kindergarten year? I never got to find out. But if God allows us to see another lifetime once the coming of Christ has happened and the Earth is rendered empty, I pray that he gives us the chance to find out.
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