Forever Young

I've spent most of this week trying to catch up with as many old friends as possible. Since I moved to FL for about 5 1/2 years, it's been ages since I've seen most of the people that I knew growing up. I always mean it when I tell people that I want to get together, but life has its way of keeping you apart sometimes. This week I was on a mission to stay good on my word to catch up with some very dear friends...and I did just that.

One of my friends who I try to always visit is my old friend, Tim Lyons. Tim was one of my very good friends growing up. I used to walk to and from school with him and a few other neighborhood boys. Those are some of my fondest memories of Tim...mainly because I don't have the privilege of creating any new memories.

On March 17, 1995, Tim was walking down Middle Road in East Greenwich, where we grew up, and was struck by a drunk driver. The car hit him so hard that he was propelled into the woods and literally out of his shoes. The driver of the car claimed he thought he had hit an animal and went home to call his attorney...I don't know how many people that think they hit animals go home and seek legal counsel about it. I can remember the morning I found out about Tim vividly. He was the first friend of mine to die...the fact that he was killed made it that much more difficult to take in as a 14 year old.

The news was plastered with the story of my friend. And the months following were no easier. I spent a lot of time at Tim's house with his mother and uncle. I would also walk to the site of where Tim got hit...almost everyday. I grew up in a small town in the smallest state in the country so it didn't go unnoticed. Soon my mother received a few phone calls by people who were alarmed by my visits to him. My mother was annoyed by people's questioning of why I would do such a thing...I was mourning...the only way I knew how at such a young age. I would walk to the memorial site and his grave and sing songs to Tim. I actually had a whole set of songs that I would sing each time I visited..."Hold On" by Sarah McLachlan, "Last Goodbye" by Jeff Buckley, "Leaving on a Jet Plane" by Peter, Paul, & Mary, and "On My Own, from "Les Miserables." That year, I did the talent show at the junior high and performed "On My Own" and dedicated it to Tim...it was the first time I had performed like that in front of my classmates...and I owe the courage it took to do to Tim.

It's been 15 years since Tim's been gone. I went to his grave today to go visit with my friend. I was silent as I stood there. It wasn't that I had nothing to say or that I didn't want to talk to him, I was just trying to take it all in...all over again. All of my friends that I got to visit this week had stories of things going on in their lives...things we had missed out on with one another. I realized today that Tim will always be 15...and in many ways, that will be the version of Tim that I think of everytime I go to visit him. Though I get older and have the privilege of experiencing the joys and pains of life, my friend is forever young...something that sounds better in theory than it does in reality. I miss my friend a little more with each passing year. I realize it's another year we will not get to catch up, another year he will not get to create new memories, and despite another year, he's still 15.

We live in a time where botox and plastic surgery are fairly common place. Trying to maintain youth is an obsession within the media and in many of our personal lives. To be perfectly honest, I have my own hang ups about wrinkles and other signs of getting older. Today I realized I'm just grateful for the opportunity to live another day...and to live long enough to worry about such trivial things....we should all be so lucky. The next time you find a gray hair, just remember how many hours, days, years, laughter, tears, and memories it took for you to get there...and be thankful that you're not forever young.