as we were singing happy birthday and i snapped away as always (my granddaddy hired me to chronicle the event), i began to think about the first person that who displayed that kind of passion...Mary...yes, Mary Taft was an amazing girl who became my first friend when i moved to carrollton. it was the first day of 4th grade and i was a nobody...a chubby nobody at that, and i sat next to Mary by choice. she had her white-ish, blonde hair pulled back in a long braid, she wore a red dress and had something no one else in the class had...an oxygen tank. Mary had cystic fibrosis, but she loved life. over the next few years we went to the movies, had parties, formed secret societies, and had sleepovers. i learned about breathing levels, feeding tubes, lung transplants and friendship...she had it all. we were in the grocery store when the news came. my nemesis and foe walked right up to us and said Mary was dead...she had passed away on friday and it was sunday. i just remember collapsing inside my mother’s arms. she lead me through the checkout line, her hands over my ears as i stood and cried uncontrollably.
later we found out that Mary’s lung transplant was a success. she learned to swim for the first time in her life, she was able to rollerblade and run...she had truly been able to do it all in such a short period of time. she lived well. and today after all the good stories and plethora of hugs and kisses, i could see my aunt lydia and that familiar sense of self that though she knew she wouldn’t be around forever, she was living now, in the present...what a great thing to see.
just as a side note...i knocked my nemesis’ front teeth out on the playground the next year...a complete accident...she’s not a walking toothless wonder though; she had them fixed. yeah, she’s in the book.
No comments:
Post a Comment