"Say what you have to say, and not what you ought."
~ Henry David Thoreau

Friday, July 25, 2014

Class of '94

The Pueblo East High School Class of 1994 is reuniting this weekend for their 20-year high school reunion. They’ll laugh, reminisce, cry, celebrate and marvel at the fact that 20 years has flown by so quickly. They’ll tell stories of youthful adventures and indiscretions, parties, class pranks, young love and heartbreak, and wonder how they ever survived some of the stupid things they did. They’ll try to reconcile their still young-at-heart mental state with their 38-year bodies and the big 4-0 looming in their futures. They’ll share pictures of their children, talk about their careers and families, and take stock of where their lives are now compared to where they thought they would be back in 1994 as they looked forward to the future. They’ll also remember the classmates who aren’t there with them that left this life far too young. My sister Julie is among those who will be remembered. On Saturday morning at 8:08 a.m. many of her classmates will gather for the Pueblo East Class of ’94 808 run, a 5k run organized by some of Julie’s friends in her honor.

I’ve thought so much about Julie this week. Partly because her friends, as loyal to her in death as they were in life, have so generously included our family in their plans and shared their memories and thoughts of her with us. I know this is a hard time for them too. Julie was part of a tight-knit group of friends who have remained closely connected over the last 20 years. Her loss is felt very deeply by all of them. This milestone in their lives is a vivid reminder to all of us of how much life Julie had left to live. I’ve long since resolved my anger toward Julie for taking her life. I no longer feel mad and resentful about what she took from all of us. I do, however, still feel incredibly cheated sometimes—cheated out of a future with my sister in my life and the opportunity to celebrate her life’s milestones and achievements with her. When she took her life she also took the promise of her future with her. As I watch her friends raise families, have careers and enjoy their lives I’m reminded of so much that will never be.

For Julie’s fellow Eagles: Tomorrow morning when you run along the familiar streets of your youth I want every one of you to know how special you were in her life. During one of our last times together the two of us went for a run through Pueblo. We talked about her move there, her time in high school and her friends. I was struck then by how meaningful those relationships were to her. I didn’t understand how truly lucky she was to have such special friends in her life until after her death when so many of your showed such love and concern for my entire family. Now I understand why she felt so lucky to have all of you in her life.

I imagine that at some point this weekend Footloose will be played for Julie. I hope everyone dances with abandon just as Julie would have done if she were there. My hope is that more than anything this weekend is a celebration of life and friendship. Tomorrow when you run for Julie, run with a smile and the knowledge that she cherished her friendship and connections to each of you. Tragically, when it mattered most her illness didn’t allow her mind to remember how dearly she was loved by so many. All that love wasn’t enough to save her. But as true friends do, you have all remained loyal. That you continue to show your love for her in so many ways means so much to me. Her death left me the gift of your friendship, and that’s a gift I will always treasure.

1 comment:

  1. A beautiful and heartfelt post, Keicha. Yes. you have a wonderful community in Julie's friends and it is beautiful that they remember her so warmly and with such recognition. Living every day, dancing, celebrating life -- it is our responsibility to do this in honor of Julie and all those who left too soon, too sad.


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