Reaching Infinity

July 9, 2013

I don’t know what to say. I’ve been away at camp for three days. Now I can’t say a word to my family without stuttering. I can’t even peek at my phone without crying. Its just too much. I tried to call Jordyn to tell him what happened. He didn’t pick up. He’s traveling. I can’t think of a worse time for him to do that. I don’t blame him. None of us could have seen this coming. Waverly and I cried for hours. We couldn’t run. We couldn’t go to camp activities. We couldn’t even really look at each other. We just... broke. I don’t know how else to describe what I’m feeling right now. 

The world is cruel. It takes wonderful things and destroys them. Sometimes, you don’t even get to say goodbye. Waverly lost her grandfather during camp. The next day, we both lost a friend and she lost another close friend as well. So much has changed. I just wish I could go back and somehow stop it. Its hard to write anything right not because I keep feeling like its not true. Our friend is still alive. Then something shows up on the news or the internet or even just on Facebook. I can’t escape it.

I went to a small service today about him. I spoke. I didn’t really want to say what I was thinking though. I wrote what I was thinking on a piece of paper for hi remaining family. On it, I wrote, “I believe in something called infinity. It doesn’t mean that you will live forever. What it means is that there will always be someone who loves and remembers you. I feel like _____ has that. It is here. And he will be missed.” Then I drew an infinity symbol and wrote down my name. So, speaking, I told a story. I talked about how when I first arrived at the school, I didn’t have a single friend. Yet, this kid was always there. He would make me laugh no matter what was going on. While I was talking about it, I started to cry. I couldn’t stop it. The tears just flowed. I cried in front of people. It was then that I realized, I never got to thank him. So, I thanked him then and there, with my lips inches from the microphone and tears tingling on my cheeks. I didn’t regret it. When I came home, my mother brought up something she hasn’t talked about in a long time. In fact, she said something nice. She said, “I remember when (substituting because he isn’t REALLY my brother and she said his name) your brother’s father died. He was here. On that couch. And you were both so young. You were in third grade and you, you said the strangest thing that night. You hugged him and looked him in the eye and said ‘I bet you’re scared.’ I’ve never heard another third grader say something like that. It was like you understood. You put yourself where he was. I think thats what you did tonight, working up enough courage to stand in front of a crowd and speak. You tried to see it. You tried to feel it. I’m proud of you for that. I’m glad you can understand.” Then, she turned and walked down the stairs. She wouldn’t even let me say a word. I didn’t remember that part of the night. I only remembered seeing his face. He looked broken, lost. 

Today, I saw so many faces like that. I wanted to tell them all that it was just fear. He is better now. He is with his family and probably didn’t suffer too much. He has what he needs. But, I couldn’t say that. For some people, the fear and the pain were woven together, tightly bound. They couldn’t face either one alone, so they tried to tackle them together. Many of my friends spoke tonight. Many of them cried. I think that is a good thing. We know what happened, not like when we were young and my sister’s best friend’s father died of brain cancer. Not like having them in our house, trying not to tell them. It was nothing like watching that little girl ask my mother when her mommy was coming to pick her up to see her daddy. Not at all like my brother, yelling at the sky, asking god why he hated him. We all knew. We weren’t that little girl tonight. We knew there wouldn’t be a car ride that night, to hold our loved one’s hand as he lay unconscious in a bed. We stood there in absolute unity, loving someone, missing someone. Thats something I won’t be able to forget. I remember the end of the gathering. Everyone joined hands. I could feel the energy coming from everyone, the hope, the sorrow, the wishes. All for our friends who died yesterday. 

I thought for a little while in that giant circle of people. I looked first at the faces of my friends, then people I knew, and lastly the people I had never seen before. We all had one thing in common, we cared enough about someone to say goodbye. The prissy girls and the sporty girls stood hand in hand, tear stained faces glowing with love. The jocks and the nerds locked fingers and bowed their heads. I gave up my hands to Waverly and my friend’s little sister, and tonight, even I prayed. I will never be able to thank our friend enough. He brought us all together in a time of darkness and gave us light. That takes a flame. He is that flame. I know he would want us to keep smiling and laughing. Wherever he is, he is safe. Nothing else can happen. He’s a fire that can’t burn out. He is a new part of my infinity and now, I ask that you please, bow your head and thank this boy. Thank him please for helping me and for being there. Thank him for bringing us the flame. He will never be forgotten, only missed. He will be infinite. Forever.

And now Jaimie, I speak directly to you. You were hard hit, darling. I am sorry for that. I saw you up there today when you spoke, you were raw, broken. In that state, I would’ve shrunken back, hid against the wall, I might have run away. You didn’t though. You stood and held that microphone. You showed enough courage to do something I couldn’t imagine. I can’t explain how amazing that is. Everyone else who spoke, even Waverly, they showed how broken they were. It isn’t a bad thing. Its just a little bit easier. You took the hard way. Even though you cried, you stayed up there. You brought tears into the eyes of those around you and you inspired us. Without you up there, I wouldn’t have said anything. You made the rest of us strong. Notice how we all went after you? Thats why. We saw you, shattered but strong, and we wanted to follow you. You were the leader tonight. You were brilliant. I know that this entire thing is probably more painful to you than it is to me. I’m sorry. I mean what I said though, all of it. I admire your courage. I hope you are ok. 

Love Always,

Quinn